


Beholden

by schwarmerei1



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domesticity, F/F, First Time, Light BDSM, Past Abuse, Sex Toys, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwarmerei1/pseuds/schwarmerei1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A far happier (and longer!) sequel to my story "<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/525185">Solitude</a>" -- what happens if Alicia and Kalinda give their relationship a chance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in an AU version of Season 4 where some aspects are present, but many are not. (Warning: this is a work-in-progress, and I am not known for my speed.) It draws heavily on the events that take place in "[Solitude](http://archiveofourown.org/works/525185)" so I would advise reading that story first.
> 
> Thanks go to many people! My lovely squad of beta readers: [hotladykisses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hotladykisses/pseuds/hotladykisses), [florrickandassociates](http://florrickandassociates.tumblr.com/), and [Scarlet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet/pseuds/Scarlet). Also thanks to [sweetjamielee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetjamielee/pseuds/sweetjamielee) for advising on my draft, and to [randomizer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/randomizer/pseuds/randomizer) who work-shopped this long ago and has supported it ever since.

Owen paused, block of parmesan pressed against the cheese grater, at the sound of the doorbell. He had enough evenings' experience minding his niece and nephew to know that people didn't just drop by his sister's apartment unexpectedly.

 

All three sets of eyes were on Alicia as she layered béchamel, ragù and sheets of pasta. "That's Kalinda. She said she might have some things to drop off for Monday's trial."

 

The name (unfamiliar to Owen) lingered like a contrail behind Zach and Grace as they both pushed off their stools and raced for the door. Owen’s eyebrows raised -- the two teenagers had been affecting a more grownup demeanour in recent months and such scampering seemed a tad youthful.

 

His sister saw his question, quickly returning her eyes to the pan in front of her before answering. “I work with her. She’s . . . cool.”

 

That anyone who worked in Alicia’s office merited the appellation "cool" was yet more intrigue. Then add the fact that someone he’d never heard her mention before was intimate enough to drop by her apartment on a Friday evening, let alone familiar enough to be welcomed by Zach and Grace. As far as he knew, the kids had scarcely met Will.

 

Hence he was anticipating someone out-of-the-ordinary by the time he heard the noise of heels against hardwood and turned to look at the new arrival. Kalinda did not disappoint.

 

Cool was one word. Seductive was another. One more was queer -- of that, Owen was instantly certain.

 

Kalinda’s large, dark eyes took him in and seemed to guess who he was, but Alicia was her object and her gaze had already left the stranger and focused on the lawyer. A thick envelope filled with papers was placed on a vacant space on the breakfast bar. Kalinda tapped her phone on it.

 

“Your security logs. I have a copy too, I’ll see if I can find you anything for Monday.”

 

“Ah, they do exist! I’m sure I don’t want to know how you got them.”

 

Kalinda offered a confirming smirk.

 

“You should stay for dinner,” Zach inserted, already anticipating that Kalinda was about to make her excuses to depart.

 

“Yeah,” agreed Grace. “There’s heaps to eat. And we haven’t seen you for ages.”

 

Kalinda was quick to withdraw, already taking a step back from the countertop. “I’m just here to ruin your mother’s weekend with work.”

 

To Owen this was still more intriguing: the way this obviously confident, controlled woman was so quick to avoid any suggestion that she might be imposing herself. When his sister had invited him over for a rare dinner with all four of them due to the fact that Peter was campaigning outside Chicago and wouldn’t have the kids that weekend, he hadn’t expected anything half so entertaining.

 

“Come on sis. I never get to meet anyone you work with.” Owen could never be sure if such appeals would backfire, but he’d at least put Alicia in a position where she’d be rude not to invite Kalinda to stay. He watched her. Her expression as she looked at Kalinda was hard to interpret.

 

“Please -- stay for dinner if you don’t have plans,” was what came out of Alicia’s mouth.

 

It was like a particularly riveting, if subtle, tennis game. Owen swung his eyes to see Kalinda’s response. Not knowing her meant he had no context to place it within, but he saw the brief smile that touched her face. He suspected the invitation was more significant than it might seem on the surface.

 

“Sure.”

 

The promise of an entertaining evening was already being realised. Zach was oh-so-solicitously relieving Kalinda of her leather jacket, an action Owen was fairly certain he wouldn’t be leaping to for anyone else. Whilst Grace was rearranging the table settings and adding a place for Kalinda.

 

Owen resumed grating cheese. It stopped him from rubbing his hands with glee.

 

><><><><><><

 

Grace managed to position Kalinda to the satisfaction of all three Florricks: on one side of the oval table and adjacent to Grace's plate. Hence Grace got to sit next to her, Zach got to look at her from across the table, and Alicia had Kalinda closer to her than Owen -- as if that would prove an effective barrier to her brother being nosey.

 

Owen remained fascinated. Kalinda spoke infrequently, and when she did she said little. But it was clear that Zach and Grace not only idolised her: they were on familiar terms, updating her on their various happenings.

 

Eventually curiosity got the better of him. "So how do you two know Kalinda so well?"

 

The response around the table was telling. Both teenagers and their mother cringed, Alicia's expression restrained but still evident. Whereas Kalinda's face showed such a lack of reaction, Owen knew immediately it had to be a practiced skill.

 

The silence went a beat too long before Kalinda answered. "Psycho husband. Alicia put me up for a few weeks."

 

Owen spoke before thinking, "Wait, you're married?" A husband was not something he expected Kalinda to be in possession of.

 

"Not anymore." Kalinda replied darkly.

 

Zach couldn't help himself and failed to suppress a snort of laughter.

 

" _Zach!_ " hissed his mother.

 

Kalinda was immediately apologetic, turning to Alicia, "That was my fault. Sorry."

 

Owen saw a repeat of the deferential manner he'd seen Kalinda display in the kitchen. And again he was intrigued. Given the situation had already veered well off the path of polite dinner conversation, he went ahead and asked. "What happened?" He ignored the glare Alicia was giving him and fixed his gaze on Kalinda.

 

"He found out where I was. Self-defence."

 

Owen blinked -- he'd been expecting a restraining order followed by acrimonious divorce.

 

So his sister had a bisexual work-wife who had killed someone. No wonder Alicia had never mentioned her.

 

Zach valiantly tried to steer the conversation to more neutral waters. "So Uncle Owen, Grace needs suggestions for extra-curriculars to go on her college applications."

 

The new tangent was jarring, but Owen went with it. "What do you have so far Grace?"

 

"Almost nothing!" Zach baited. Clearly this had been discussed before.

 

Grace ignored her brother. "I used to have soccer, but I couldn't get back in when we went back to Capstone. Everyone had gone up a grade."

 

"I could probably coach you through math club." Owen sounded doubtful.

 

Grace glared at her brother's smirk. And turned to Kalinda instead. "We have a shooting club. Could you teach me?"

 

Kalinda all but choked on her mouthful of lasagne. "I don't think that would be appropriate," she managed after swallowing.

 

"Why not?" Grace pressed.

 

"I think you need to discuss it with your parents." Kalinda stated firmly. She wasn't prepared to enter the minefield of teaching the daughter of a gubernatorial candidate how to shoot, just months after said candidate's office decided not to charge her with murder.

 

"But you could teach me, if Mom and Dad said it was okay?"

 

"Grace," Alicia used the voice she reserved for silencing hostile witnesses. "We'll talk about it later."

 

Owen helped himself to more salad. Kalinda, he decided, was the gift who kept on giving.

 

Eventually dinner was eaten, and Owen diligently began to work scrubbing the lasagne pan in the sink so that his sister wouldn't walk him to the door alongside Kalinda.

 

He watched the other woman take her leave. Again it was hard to interpret. There were no hugs or kissed cheeks or any other outward sign of affection exchanged. Yet there was an intensity between them that went beyond friendly work colleagues and was palpable metres away in the kitchen.

 

Zach was bringing the last of the dishes into the kitchen, while Grace stacked the dishwasher. Alicia appeared in the doorway.

 

Owen replaced the scourer in the dishrack. "You two feel free to go do whatever you kids do on computers. I'll finish cleaning up with your mom."

 

Alicia, standing behind the departing teens, rolled her eyes at him.

 

Owen slid both their wines glasses to the side next to the open bottle. "Let's leave those out, shall we?"

 

Alicia moved beside her brother and picked up a towel to start drying. "You are completely transparent."

 

"Good."

 

They cleaned up in companionable silence. Once done, Owen poured the last of the wine into Alicia's glass. It scarcely stretched to one person, definitely not to two. "I hope you have another bottle. I think we're going to need it sis."

 

Alicia sighed dramatically as she pulled another bottle out of the rack and led her brother to the living room.

 

She flopped onto the couch heavily. "So, Owen . . ."

 

"Alicia . . ." Owen drew her name out, then whispered, "I didn't know you had any lesbian friends."

 

"Didn't you hear the part where she was married?"

 

"Alicia, I hate to break it to you, but that woman is as gay as . . ."

 

“Don’t say a row of tents or whatever it is you were about to throw out there.”

 

“Fine -- she’s gay.”

 

Alicia chanted sing-song, "She's not gay, she's flexible."

 

"Whatever," Owen waved it away. "My point stands."

 

"You have a point?" Alicia swallowed a mouthful of wine.

 

"She was quite something with those boots and the leather jacket, but still all doe-eyed and femme. What do you do? Tie her up and spank her?"

 

"Owen!" Alicia growled under her breath, glancing over in the direction of the corridor that led to Zach and Grace's rooms.

 

"Sorry, but seriously, what's going on between you two? And don't tell me nothing." Owen added as Alicia shifted as though she was going to leave the sofa. "Oh! I just figured it out: she's the one who started you drinking tequila!"

 

"I'm not nearly drunk enough for this conversation." Alicia sighed and drained her glass.

 

She looked at her brother. She could see he wasn't likely to drop the subject. And who knew who he would go to in his quest for information if she didn't tell him? And just one small part of her was already anticipating the relief of finally unburdening herself to someone on the tangled subject of Kalinda.

 

"Come on." She grabbed the bottle and headed for her bedroom with resignation.

 

"Top secret huh?" commented Owen as she filled both their glasses before they each sat on either side of her bed.

 

It occurred to Alicia that the last person she'd sat on her bed drinking alcohol with was Kalinda all those years ago. "Complicated," she offered.

 

"I guess so." Owen looked at his sister. "She's um, very deferential to you." He paused, watching Alicia steeling herself to tell him something.

 

Alicia took a steadying breath. "She used to work at the S.A.'s office before Lockhart/Gardner -- for Peter." She couldn't look at Owen and found herself looking straight ahead at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. It felt like she was looking at someone else. "We . . . she . . . she looked after me when I started back at work. I would have lost my job if it wasn't for her." Alicia found that her eyes were becoming warm. "She was a friend." She blinked. "She was so good for me." It was impossible to remember the joy her new exciting friend had brought to her in that incredibly dark time, and how valuable Kalinda's guidance had been, without feeling the heartbreak all over again. "And then . . ." Alicia looked down at the wine glass in her hands.

 

Owen resisted urging her to continue, guessing it would probably be counterproductive.

 

"Then I found out she had slept with Peter."

 

Owen's eyes widened. "Wow . . ." Alicia hadn't been kidding when she said it was complicated. "And you're still friends?"

 

"We weren't." Sometimes Alicia felt such ambiguity towards Kalinda she wasn't sure if they were truly friends now.

 

"But she's stayed in your home. She knows the kids."

 

Alicia scrubbed at her face. Explaining the pull she had felt towards Kalinda from nearly the beginning and still felt now wasn't something she could do satisfactorily even to herself. "She . . . I . . ." Alicia struggled to give words -- _she wooed me back_ and _I missed her_ were more loaded with connotations than she cared to voice to her brother. "She found Grace." That was concrete, factual -- something that would make it explicable. "That time Grace was missing. I didn't ask her to, but Kalinda found her."

 

"To try to make it up to you." Owen concluded.

 

"No." Alicia wondered why she didn't just let Owen believe the obvious explanation. "She didn't tell me. She told Grace not to tell me."

 

"Why did she do it then?"

 

"That's what she does." Alicia fumbled mentally for a way to explain it without it sounding as though she had a knight gallant courting her favour with self-sacrificing deeds. "She fixes things." She thought of the other times: Peter's appeal for one. How Kalinda had asked her first what she wanted.

 

"For everyone? Or just for you?" Owen asked shrewdly.

 

Alicia's silence spoke for her.

 

Owen shook his head. "I guess I can see why you haven't mentioned her." Owen replayed the way Kalinda looked at his sister. Her expressions had been determinedly opaque, but her gaze had lingered. And apparently she'd do anything on Alicia's behalf.

 

"It's complicated." Alicia repeated.

 

Kalinda concealed it well, but Owen was certain. "Not to mention, she's got it bad for you."

 

Alicia shifted uncomfortably, shook her head slightly. "That's not true, just because she could be attracted to me doesn't mean she is." She narrowed her eyes as she turned to her brother. "I would have thought you'd be a little more nuanced on the subject."

 

"Alicia . . ." Owen shook his head. ". . . I've been watching people moon over you for three decades. She's got it bad for you -- as bad as any of them."

 

Both siblings thoughtfully took another mouthful of wine.

 

Owen decided that given he'd already trampled over most of Alicia's boundaries, he might as well continue. "So, how are things with Peter?" He glanced over cautiously.

 

Alicia drained her glass.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to my beta readers: hotladykisses, florrickandassociates, and Scarlet.

"Cary, stay a moment." Diane motioned him back into the chair before her desk. "I need to brief you for the depositions." She closed the folder Kalinda had handed to her. "Kalinda, I think we're done. Can you take care of the arrangements?"

 

Nodding, Kalinda sped out of Diane’s office. It was a rare opportunity these days to talk to Alicia alone in her office without Cary present.

 

“What’s up?” Alicia looked up from her stack of papers, pen still in hand. "Those security logs were . . . dense."

 

"Tell me about it." Kalinda sat in one of Alicia's visitor chairs. "I have a few ideas to track down." She hesitated, wondering if she shouldn't say anything, but, "I uh, enjoyed dinner." Alicia smiled, Kalinda exhaled.

 

"Sorry about Owen." It sounded like an apology Alicia had made before.

 

“I like your brother.” Kalinda looked like she was still considering the issue. “He’s kind of a jerk.”

 

Alicia laughed and Kalinda heard that little break her voice sometimes got when she did -- something she hadn't heard directed her way for more than a year.

 

She swallowed away the tightness that was suddenly in her throat before speaking. “You know how I have a road-trip for that class action to look at land titles?"

 

“Yes, for Diane’s case.”

 

“I have to take Cary with me. Alicia . . . two days in a car with him. I won’t even be able to drink to get through it.”

 

Kalinda turned in her chair, saw Cary approaching through several layers of glass.

 

Alicia looked amused. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. Think how much worse it could have been, like . . . Julius.” Her voice dropped, mock accusatory. “I know you actually like him.”

 

It was progress: Alicia teasing her, particularly on a subject such as this.

 

“He’s going to want to talk the whole time,” Kalinda continued, “you should have seen him -- his tail was wagging.”

 

“Use it as an opportunity to torture him then.” Alicia could see the object of their conversation at the door. “I have every confidence you’ll survive.”

 

“Good morning Alicia.” Cary nodded at Kalinda.

 

“6:00 a.m., I’ll pick you up at your place. Make sure you’re ready.” Kalinda ordered with an air of threat before leaving.

 

“Don’t worry.” Alicia assured Cary, “She’s secretly very pleased about it.”

 

As she watched Kalinda stride away towards her customary place in the bullpen, she realised she was worrying her top lip with her teeth.

 

Cary was staring at her.

 

"I don't know why I'm so nervous about this case," she claimed.

 

Cary just smiled at her.

 

Owen loved to speculate about her private life, Alicia told herself, that didn't mean he was right.

 

><><><><><>< 

 

Kalinda knocked at 5:40 a.m., unreasonably well put-together for anyone at that hour of the morning.

 

“You’re early,” Cary commented, flustered. His hair was still damp and he’d obviously had to put his shirt on earlier than intended because it was sticking to him in places.

 

“I am? Gonna let me in?”

 

Cary gestured her inside.

 

Kalinda eyes roamed like she was casing the joint. “You have a lot of candles.”

 

“I like candles.”

 

“That’s sweet . . .” Kalinda walked further into Cary’s loft apartment, noting various pieces that looked like they might have come from Cary’s Peace Corps days. It was at least a little more individual than, say, Will’s apartment. That one was cluttered with objects so obviously purchased by a professional decorator it was painful.

 

Cary watched Kalinda approach the bookshelves and start reading the titles. “If you want to look through cupboards while I finish getting ready, go ahead.”

 

“Oh, this is plenty of material, don’t worry.” Kalinda smirked.

 

Cary shook his head -- of course she'd played him. He just wasn’t expecting it to happen at this hour of the morning. He left to fetch his bag and finish getting dressed.

 

“So, no comment?” Cary enquired as he returned from his bedroom.

 

“Not at present.” Kalinda's smile was feline.

 

><><><><><><

 

“Your car is nice.” Cary observed, settling into the leather upholstery. It was also immaculate, with no touches that might reveal anything new about Kalinda.

 

“Yeah, good thing I got upgraded a year before your friend Clarke started clutching at the purse strings.”

 

“He’s doing a good job you know.”

 

“Sure, but I’m still glad I have my car.”

 

Kalinda pulled onto the expressway on their way out of Chicago.

 

“Let me know if you want a break from driving at some point.”

 

“Cary,” Kalinda’s eyes remained fixed on the road. “Under what circumstances do you think I could be persuaded to let you drive my car?”

 

“I knew this was going to be fun.” Cary relaxed against the headrest.

 

He was having fun. He was here, she was next to him. The scent of her perfume, recently applied, filled the car interior to a pleasant degree: sandalwood and other things he was never sure of -- maybe clove. And she was better, so much better than a few months ago when she had come back to work.

 

Cary didn’t like to remember visiting Kalinda in hospital. He knew he’d failed her in that moment -- badly. He’d watched her first day back in the office: spine even straighter than normal, her face closed and daring anyone to speak to her. Kalinda had never been talkative, but she was quiet even by her standards those first weeks. Silence preceded her like a vacuum whenever she moved through the office -- whispered conversations that died whenever she came into view, resumed when she disappeared.

 

The problem with having lots of friends in legal circles was that Kalinda Sharma also had a lot of enemies, some old, some more recently acquired. There were people in the Chicago P.D. and the State’s Attorney's Office who had felt free to mention things that should have remained confidential about Kalinda’s police file. Dana Lodge was one of them, casual as anything, about the samples taken from Kalinda’s body while she laid unconscious in hospital. Cary had never wanted to hit someone as much as he did at that moment. The fact that they were standing in the foyer outside one of the courtrooms helped relieve the itch in his palms. Although he felt like he deserved it almost as much as Dana.

 

One person was able to breach the defensive zone that encased Kalinda: Alicia, but that was to be expected after spending a couple of weeks sharing an apartment. In reality, Cary knew better than anyone that those weeks of Kalinda’s recovery must have been far from comfortable between the two women. But there was no doubt, in Cary’s observation, that Kalinda’s mood had a direct correlation to the state of her relationship with Alicia. That some sort of breakthrough had taken place was obvious, to him at least.

 

At Lockhart/Gardner, he’d watched from their newly-shared office how Alicia checked in with Kalinda frequently on her way to or from meetings, or did things like bringing her a glass of milk when she got herself a coffee. To Cary’s eye it almost looked like maternal fussing, which didn’t seem to match what he knew of Kalinda, but based on her reactions it was a comfort rather than an annoyance. Most likely, because Alicia was the one doing it.

 

His wandering attention returned when he heard a muttered curse from the driver’s seat. Kalinda’s driving was a performance in itself. She accelerated crisply out of corners, eyes focused far down the road. She kept to the speed limit except when someone tailgated her, in which case she slowed down until they overtook with a blare of car horn, Kalinda’s arm out the window flipping them off. Cary knew he was smiling at her like an idiot.

 

“So, do you want some music?”

 

“Are you bored?” Kalinda was smirking, but her eyes stayed on the road.

 

“You’re not talking much. I’m assuming that’s deliberate though.”

 

She actually glanced over at him and smiled. “Go on, put something on.”

 

Cary fiddled with his phone and the audio jack of Kalinda’s stereo until beats filled the car interior.

 

“You listen to this for enjoyment?” Kalinda wrinkled her nose.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Hmm, says something. You get twenty minutes then I can pick.”

 

“I can’t wait. This should be good.”

 

When his time was up, she pulled over into a rest stop and yanked the jack out mid-song.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Twenty minutes, Cary.” She scrolled through her phone and then laid it down on the console.

 

“You listen to this for enjoyment?” He repeated her question as a mournful series of notes on woodwind were reiterated by a violin and then all the other instruments in turn, building to an inharmonious cacophony -- it sounded as though the music hadn’t started, like the orchestra was still tuning up.

 

“Sure.” She tossed a wink at him before pulling back out onto the road. “Hurting your ears?”

 

“A little.” Cary admitted.

 

“I picture Agos family occasions with something suitable playing in the background . . . inoffensive, like _The Four Seasons_ or Handel arias.” Of course Kalinda made it all sound highly insulting.

 

“You do, huh?” She wasn’t far off the mark, but she got the emotional climate all wrong. There were no _Agos family occasions_. It also confirmed to Cary that Alicia had not disclosed anything to Kalinda about their time in D.C. on the Dodd case at the F.C.C..

 

“Yeah. Of course, no one would mention the fact that the mezzo was pretending to be a guy and singing her heart out for the soprano.”

 

“Kalinda Sharma and classical music, who knew?”

 

“I have unsuspected depth.”

 

Cary picked up her phone.

 

“Don’t touch anything!”

 

“I’m just reading, relax.” _Berg -- Violin Concerto_ was scrolling across the screen. He put her phone back in place.

 

“How are you ears doing?”

 

“Better.”

 

“But not good?” Kalinda tipped her head as she smiled.

 

He shrugged. It was a bit of a lie: the music did have a mournful austerity that seemed to match Kalinda’s affect over the last months.

 

Twenty minutes passed, and Cary reached for Kalinda’s cell.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Your twenty minutes are up.”

 

“And there’s five minutes of the second movement to go.”

 

“You cut me off mid-song!”

 

“Yeah, but this is art you philistine.”

 

“You’re not really playing fair here, Kalinda.”

 

“This is In Memoriam -- show some respect.”

 

“Unh.” Cary let go of Kalinda’s phone and fell back against the cream leather of his seat. “I’d forgotten what a control freak you can be.”

 

Kalinda smirked again. “I can bitch it up a bit more if you like.”

 

“No, this is perfect.”

 

She laughed, actually out loud, something he hadn’t heard for a while. Yeah, he was definitely having a good time.

 

“Maybe we should just stick to your musical tastes then.” He gestured to her phone.

 

“Okay . . . You go anywhere outside my music files, I’ll break fingers.”

 

“I wouldn’t dare.”

 

He knew she'd reverted to the kind of baiting relationship they'd had working together when Cary had been a first year associate. It felt like a safe place for the time being.

 

><><><><><><

 

At some point he’d drifted into sleep, only waking as he felt the car coming to a halt.

 

“We there?” He asked fuzzily.

 

“Just taking a break.” Kalinda unbuckled and slid out of her door. Cary followed her.

 

The sight of Kalinda in her boots, short skirt and red leather jacket, leaning on a post-and-rail fence in the middle of the Illinois countryside, looking at a mild-eyed cow was incongruous. The cow seemed to think so too since she stopped chewing her cud, put forward her ears, and regarded the investigator back with her own brown eyes.

 

Mystified, Cary looked for clues. Signage above a freshly-painted barn, that had been converted into a shop, declaring the place an award-winning dairy seemed to be the answer. He excused himself to the restroom. When he stepped out again into the sunshine, Kalinda was engaged in a lively conversation with an elderly man who fitted the definition salt-of-the-earth. As he came into earshot, he could hear references on both sides to artificial insemination, likelihood of twin calves, udder attachment and strong top-lines.

 

Apparently even animal husbandry was not too arcane for Kalinda, unless there had been some case in the past he didn’t know about.

 

“Come inside, I’ll get something for you to try.” The man beckoned Kalinda inside a nearby shed, Cary followed.

 

They were inside a shop attached to what must be the dairy. The man disappeared through a door while Kalinda browsed fridges filled with cream, cheeses, and selected herself a quart of milk.

 

“Want anything?” She asked Cary.

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

The man came back out carrying a paper cup. “Try this, honey.”

 

Cary had to stop himself from laughing at the idea of anyone calling Kalinda _honey_ , but she was turning it on quite a bit, giving the man a coquettish look through her lashes.

 

“It’s warm, is it actually still raw?”

 

“Yep, straight from the cow. Don’t you tell on me to the law, okay?”

 

Kalinda winked at him. “I won’t tell.” She took a long drink. “That’s really good.”

 

She offered the cup to Cary. He could see clots of cream forming on the top and he was pretty sure those were hairs sticking to the side. “No I’m good, thanks.”

 

She drained the rest and handed the empty cup back to the man then set the bottle from the fridge down on the counter. “I’ll get this thanks, I’m sure your legit milk is good too.” Kalinda was giving her full-force smile. If Lockhart/Gardner ever needed an expert witness in the dairy industry, Cary was pretty sure this guy would volunteer.

 

“So really, cows?” Cary asked as the climbed back into their seats.

 

“Would you believe I was in 4-H as a kid?”

 

“No, I really wouldn’t.” Cary replied, laughing.

 

><><><><><><

 

They reached their destination a little after eleven. Kalinda dropped Cary outside the local law firm Diane was partnering with to take depositions, before she headed off to deal with municipal bureaucracy and title documents.

 

“Not sure how long this is going to take,” Cary commented, checking his cell to see whether he had coverage out here. “I’ll be in touch.”

 

“Okay, I’ll get started. I’m pretty sure I’ll need tomorrow morning as well to do my end.”

 

“Don’t break anything flirting.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re just jealous I don’t have to persuade you anymore for help since you left the S.A.’s office.”

 

It was truer than she probably meant it to be, he thought as he watched her car turn the corner.

 

><><><><><><

 

“So how was it?” Kalinda asked as she drove them to their motel.

 

“Fine. Boring -- but I think Diane will be pleased.”

 

“How about your boyfriend?” At Cary’s raised eyebrows, she answered. “Clarke -- I’m sure he’d appreciate a swift settlement before it actually goes to court.”

 

“You’re having way too much fun with that, Kalinda.”

 

“I don’t think that’s possible. The way he looks at you is just adorable.”

 

The simpering voice meant she was just teasing, but Cary found himself actually colouring. He looked out the window.

 

She pulled into the motel’s parking lot and clicked over towards the reception office.

 

The young woman behind the counter may have been wearing a pressed white blouse, pencil skirt and pumps as required by her employer, but her shortish hair, freckles, and freshly-scrubbed look testified that she would be more at home in comfortable Birkenstocks and a flannel shirt.

 

Every sentence ended or began with "Ms Sharma" and it was obvious that Kalinda was by far the most entrancing creature that had ever stepped in the door as far as (Cary looked at her name tag) Chloe was concerned. Cary felt like he should warn her that since her name ended in “e” she was out of the running.

 

Kalinda took two keys and headed down the line of rooms. “Here you are.” She handed Cary one of them, then kept walking.

 

He jogged to catch up to her, hitched a finger inside her elbow. Her violent flinch, when he touched her, startled both of them. As she turned, he could see an attempt to cover the mortification on her face. He bit off the urge to apologise. She was still endeavouring to blink away Nick's face as she looked at Cary. Like everything else that had ever gone wrong between them, they both pretended it hadn’t happened.

 

“Hang on, where are you?”

 

“Down there,” she pointed.

 

At his look she said, “Cary, if I’d let you book, you’d have gotten us interconnecting rooms.”

 

Cary did not need to know that her brain was still unleashing occasional nightmares on her. And she most definitely did not need him bashing down her door to check on her.

 

“Okay, fine. Look, I’m going to go for a run . . .”

 

“Virtuous of you,” Kalinda interrupted.

 

“. . . and then afterwards, do you want to have some dinner?”

 

She shrugged. He decided it wasn’t a no.

 

><><><><><><

 

It was pretty out here with the town’s tree-lined streets a riot of autumn colour, he’d enjoyed running in the brisk air as the sun sank lower.

 

Unfortunately it hadn’t helped clear his mind of Kalinda. He knocked at her door. She had taken off her leather jacket, but otherwise was still in her work clothes right down to her boots, despite the visual evidence behind her that she'd been sitting on one of the beds while she worked. His thoughts must have been obvious.

 

“Disappointed? Did you hope I’d be fucking the desk clerk and ask you to join us?”

 

"No!" Except that now, of course, he was imagining just that. Cary fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie. "There's not a lot of choice in town: a steak house and a pizza joint. Plenty of people picking up pizza, so it must be okay I guess." He offered Kalinda a printed menu.

 

"No fine dining where we can expense some lobster?" Kalinda scrutinised the paper in her hands.

 

"We're in administration, Kalinda!" Cary looked so scandalised -- Clarke would have been proud.

 

"All the more reason to have a decent meal before Lockhart/Gardner goes under." Kalinda looked up at him. "Oh come on, Cary -- kidding." She rolled her eyes at him. "Pizza's fine. I do need to keep working though."

 

"I'll see you in twenty."

 

Cary phoned in his order, showered, and changed before presenting himself again at Kalinda's door, cardboard box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

 

She opened the door radically shorter in her stocking-feet. Cary found himself staring, then wondering who she painted her toenails for. He covered by setting the pizza down on the desk that held an old cathode ray television set, and fumbling for a bottle opener.

 

Kalinda looked amused as she clinked her bottle with his before settling back cross-legged onto one of the twin beds amidst a nest of paperwork. Cary managed to find a couple of plates in the cupboard containing the mini bar. He arranged slices of pizza on them and sat on the edge of the other bed.

 

"So, how's it going?" A pile of documents adorned with flags and Post-it's was growing before Kalinda's left knee.

 

"Good -- there seems to be a pretty clear pattern of suspicious boundary changes and rezoning after the new mayor came in. I need to go back tomorrow and pull all the historic documents on these properties." Kalinda dropped her highlighter on a smaller pile, before taking the offered plate.

 

Cary watched her eat. "I'm done with depos, can I help you tomorrow?"

 

Kalinda looked amused at the prospect. "Sure, if the idea of photocopying turns you on, who am I to deny you?"

 

Cary rolled his eyes at her as he toed off his shoes and sat back against the pillows of the second bed. They ate in companionable silence. Kalinda declined a second helping of pizza but did join him in another bottle of beer. She set it down midway through and started back on scrutinising the papers on the bed in front of her.

 

Cary picked up one of the documents on her "done" pile and started to figure out what Kalinda's markups were looking for. "Can I help with this? It looks like you have a lot still to do."

 

Kalinda shrugged. The painstaking process of slowly delving through piles of evidence for the few relevant pieces of information was a familiar one to her. "Sure, if you want to." She reached over and handed him a title plan, along with highlighter, pen and Post-it notes. "So compare that drawing with the one from 2004 here," she fished out another document to pass to him, "And mark any changes."

 

Cary took a last swig from his beer and started work. When he laid the drawing on Kalinda's pile she reached for it and examined his notes closely.

 

He smirked. "Do I pass?"

 

Kalinda just smiled at him, but handed him another document to work on. They said little that wasn't related to the case as they slowly worked through the stack of photocopies a page at a time.

 

As the last page was completed, Kalinda commented, "I imagine you're itching to give up the profitable practice of the law for the glamour of investigating."

 

Cary snorted as he got up and went over to the desk. He uncapped a beer and held up the last bottle in silent question to Kalinda.

 

"Sure."

 

Cary took a swig. "I should have thought to put them in the fridge, sorry." The liquid was still cool, but definitely not cold.

 

"You're forgiven."

 

Cary sat back down on his bed and stretched his legs out. He looked over at Kalinda, enjoying this evening of quiet collegiality -- so different from their charged encounters that had characterised his time at the State's Attorney's.

 

The events of a few months ago had upset his picture of Kalinda. But while the unsettling memory of her beaten and recovering in hospital remained, he could look at her again now. He could see the slender fingers that wrapped around the beer bottle, and the way tipping her head up to sip exposed the tendons of her neck and the sharp lines of her jaw.

 

His gaze lingered on her beauty too long -- she looked around. Cary expected to be reprimanded or mocked, but she remained silent and just regarded him seriously. He was the one who looked away and drank another mouthful from his bottle.

 

"Cary . . ."

 

He didn't want to look at her, he could tell he wasn't going to like whatever she was planning to tell him.

 

"Cary?" He did turn then -- her tone was uncharacteristically emotive. "You have to stop."

 

Cary repressed the urge to deny. If Kalinda wanted to confront what went unsaid between them, he figured he should let her -- it was unlikely they'd ever discuss it again.

 

"Kalinda . . ."

 

"I can't give you what you want."

 

"How do you know what I want?"

 

"You can't be casual." Kalinda left out that right now she wasn't inclined to do anything, casual or otherwise, with anyone.

 

"What if I don't want commitment?"

 

Kalinda's eyes narrowed. "The way I remember it, I wasn't the one who walked away from sex."

 

Cary tried not to cringe. Remembering the mess of his relationship with Dana and how he'd been unable to untangle his feelings for Kalinda was deeply embarrassing.

 

"Cary," her tone was gentle. Kalinda was so good at presenting her public front that sometimes even Cary, who knew there was a different woman beneath the surface, forgot she was there. "You deserve to be happy. Get married, have kids -- the full disaster."

 

Cary remained silent. Sometimes fantasies of Kalinda had extended beyond his bed and into some implausible future where she fell in love with him and became his ever after.

 

"Don't throw your life away on me." Kalinda concluded.

 

To that Cary reacted. "You're a fine one to talk."

 

He watched her jaw set. Her expression became shuttered instantly, like security screens slamming closed during a bank robbery. He wanted to apologise.

 

"Thanks for helping tonight. We need to start early tomorrow."

 

Cary knew not to push his luck any further and suggest breakfast. He silently cleared his plate and bottles from the nightstand. "What time?"

 

"Archives open at eight, check out at seven-thirty."

 

"Okay." Cary set the remains of dinner down by the television. "Good night."

 

Cary kept walking when he reached his door. It took a good hour of night air before he felt like less of a crushed-out schoolboy who'd been called on it by his teacher.

 

><><><><><><

 

Cary rallied overnight and resolved not to mention anything. Ever.

 

He even attempted a bit of sport, knocking at Kalinda's door twenty minutes early.

 

"It's open."

 

He pushed it open, somewhat uncertainly.

 

Kalinda's travel case was zipped and ready just inside the door, her satchel of paperwork leaning against it. The woman herself sat in the room's only chair, completely dressed and not a hair out of place, attending to her BlackBerry.

 

"Great, an early start. There was a coffee place near the municipal chambers -- we can have breakfast."

 

Cary gave her an amused look, she smirked at him in return. He gestured at the door and reached down to pick up her bags. Kalinda rolled her eyes at him. She preceded him out the door, grabbed the handle of his suitcase and started rolling towards the motel's office.

 

Cary watched her stride in front of him -- they were okay.

 

><><><><><><

 

Their workday advanced into the early afternoon before Kalinda was satisfied that she had obtained every document that could possibly be pertinent. A hurried late lunch saw them back on the road, Kalinda making it quite clear that Cary should confine himself to the passenger seat.

 

The prettiness of the twisting local roads eventually gave way to the soporific monotony of the multi-lane highway that would carry them back to Chicago.

 

Cary was in that quiet place where he was not the one driving and the motion of the car was lulling him to sleep. Then he heard her voice, low and soft.

 

"I'm not throwing my life away."

 

"Really?"

 

Her eyes remained fixed on the road, she was very still. "It's not like that."

 

"What is it like then?"

 

"She makes me happy."

 

It was surprising that Kalinda went so far as to use a pronoun.

 

"That's happiness to you?"

 

"I'm not built for your kind of happiness Cary."

 

It was probably the saddest thing anyone had said to him. And the saddest part of it was that, as far as he knew, Alicia Florrick didn’t have a fucking clue. But he knew that Kalinda meant it and that it was the truth to her at least. He could tell from her body language that she had said all that she intended and the conversation was over.

 

Cary said nothing, but he couldn’t stop turning over in his mind if this was really how it had to be for her. And if it was, what was it like to live, and never go after what you wanted the most? He supposed he had an answer for that last one.

 

The other thought that came to him, not for the first time, _was what happened to you, Kalinda?_ He didn’t expect to get an answer for that.

 

><><><><><><

 

Kalinda pulled up at the kerb outside Cary’s place and turned off the engine.

 

“Do you want to come in for a drink? You can go through my kitchen cupboards.” Cary offered, trying for some levity.

 

“Maybe next time.”

 

“So, will I ever get to see the Batcave?” Cary unbuckled his seatbelt.

 

“Fortress of Solitude,” Kalinda corrected. “No, probably not.”

 

She was still looking at him silently, the light from a streetlamp slaking over one side of her face. She placed a hand along his jawline, then pulled his face towards hers as she leaned over to press a kiss very softly on his cheek. She’d never initiated one of their moments. It had always been him. “I’m sorry.” she whispered.

 

“So am I.” he told her. He couldn’t resist one stroke of his fingers down her face, her dark eyes on his.

 

“Night Cary.” She drew back to pull the lever for the trunk.

 

He climbed out, got his case, and watched from the stoop as she pulled away and drove off.

 

He kept standing there until the cold became more present than his thoughts.

 

><><><><><><

 

Cary was still thoughtful the next morning as he sat at his desk not really reading the memo up on his screen. He looked up as Alicia entered.

 

"She didn't kill you."

 

Cary snorted quietly. "Not even a scratch."

 

He directed his gaze back to his laptop as he heard the sounds of Alicia settling herself at her desk behind him. He knew he wasn't going to get anything done until he said his piece. He turned in his chair to face Alicia.

 

"It was good actually."

 

Alicia raised her eyebrows.

 

"Spending time with her." Cary clarified. "I've been worried about her, but she's better don't you think?"

 

Alicia's expression was wary, as though the ice supporting the topic of Kalinda and recent events was paper thin. "She's strong." she replied with finality, hoping to end the conversation.

 

Cary felt his face getting red. "She has you to thank for helping her get back to that."

 

Now Alicia's expression was unequivocally silencing. Cary was struck by the resemblance to Kalinda's two nights ago.

 

"I know your friendship means a lot to her." Cary finished. _Actually it means everything to her,_ he thought but didn't say.

 

Alicia's silence continued, but eventually she acknowledged him with a nod, then pointedly looked at her computer screen and began to type.

 

Cary turned back to his own work.

 

Alicia's fingers tapped at keys mechanically. Cary's words coupled onto Owen's and formed a distractingly-loud train that kept on traveling a circuit around her brain


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia and Kalinda make their first attempts at intentional socialising...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to my beta readers: hotladykisses and Scarlet.

Alicia felt guilty watching Kalinda enjoying herself. Had it actually been that long since they'd gone out for a drink after work? There had been that time a few days before Alicia made the fateful phone call that brought Kalinda's past raining down upon her. And if there had been a more recent occasion, Alicia's memory wasn't able to recall it to assuage her conscience. In fact, it made it worse -- she could recall rebuffing an invite from a tentative Kalinda at the end of her first week back at work. Alicia's excuse had been real -- she did have a campaign commitment. _But you didn't suggest another time, did you?_ Alicia swallowed the second half of her shot.

 

_I'm not gay, I'm . . . flexible._

 

Now that she was thinking back to that night so many months ago, Kalinda's words echoed in her head. At that point, it wasn't exactly a revelation, so why had Kalinda decided to declare it openly? Was it just adhering to their policy of everything on the table? Alicia suspected that Owen would argue it was something Kalinda specifically wanted her to know.

 

Kalinda looked around, liking the unhurried atmosphere of a Thursday night compared to the desperation of Friday's meet markets. The bartender noticed Kalinda join Alicia in emptying her glass and asked a silent question.

 

"You probably want home rather than another round." Kalinda suggested quietly, aware that her companion was ruminating. "The campaign . . ." She didn't need Alicia to tell her how thin she was stretched by Eli's scheduling of her in addition to work.

 

"Actually, it's nice taking a night off from everything." Alicia admitted honestly. Just then, her phone chirped. She saw Eli's name flash and sighed.

 

By the time she'd picked it up and begun to access his message, two more had arrived.

 

"This late, I'm guessing that's an emergency." Kalinda commented.

 

"Nope." Alicia finished the first message, which was pure Eli Gold all-caps frustration, then the two follow-up afterthoughts. "In fact, I just got my Saturday back." Even more welcome than the free time was the fact that the event just cancelled would have required hours of travel across state to do nothing more than simper beside Peter and make sure she sold the notion of their full reconciliation.

 

Kalinda held up two fingers. "In that case, we should definitely have another round to celebrate."

 

They clinked glasses. Alicia felt it like a touch when their eyes met. She downed her shot in one go and saw Kalinda match her.

 

 _It's just Owen being Owen . . ._ She'd prove it. They were friends. She needed friends. _You can shut up about that too, Owen!_ Kalinda had once been the best friend she'd ever had -- she could be that friend again.

 

"We should do something," Alicia began. She saw the questioning look on Kalinda's face. "On Saturday, I mean. Now that I have time free." Kalinda's face briefly looked surprised, then became regretful. Alicia wondered if she'd made spending time together sound like a second-best option.

 

"I might not be able to. Depending . . ." Kalinda inwardly cursed that the first time Alicia had suggested getting together other than after work, she might not be available.

 

Alicia decided she needed to step up. "When's your thing?"

 

"I don't know yet." At Alicia's curious look, Kalinda continued. "I bought a painting. Exhibition ends tomorrow. I need to pick it up on Saturday, but I don't know what time."

 

"Can I help?" Alicia was genuinely intrigued by the idea of Kalinda and home-decorating. She recalled Kalinda saying she was going to move, but had no idea if that had indeed happened. A surreal vision of the two of them killing time picking out throw pillows at Pottery Barn between school drop-off and pick-up flitted through her head. Friendship with Kalinda was the opposite of her years in Highland Park.

 

"Sure." Kalinda replied with a hint of uncertainty that Alicia was able to detect. "I'll let you know what time and pick you up?"

 

Alicia nodded, then shook her head at the bartender.

 

Both women wondered what they'd signed up for.

 

><><><><><><

 

Kalinda could have carried her new possession single-handedly, but the painting was large enough that Alicia felt like her presence served some purpose.

 

So far, Kalinda's new apartment building was a slightly nicer version of her previous one. It was better located to the office and other amenities; the lobby a little more spacious; and thankfully the march from the elevator to Kalinda's door was unaccompanied by a lime-green wallpaper forest. Alicia took more of the weight while Kalinda freed a hand for her keys.

 

"Let's set it down over there." Kalinda gestured with her head to the wall opposite the sofa.

 

"You have a sofa!" Alicia couldn't help commenting. The sterility and loneliness of Kalinda's former apartment wasn't something she would forget.

 

"Yeah, this is the new convivial me." Kalinda didn't mention the fact that she'd found herself instinctively avoiding her leather armchair and not sitting in it since her vigil that night. And that when she decided to replace it, her choice was a conscious attempt to set her life on a new path.

 

Both women gently set down the painting, then Kalinda gestured Alicia to have a seat. "Can I get you a drink?"

 

"It's probably a little early for me to hit the tequila."

 

Kalinda smiled at the back of Alicia's head from the kitchen where she'd walked. "I was thinking of a beer."

 

"Sure."

 

Kalinda pulled two bottles from the fridge and uncapped them, then extracted a box cutter from a kitchen drawer. She handed one bottle to Alicia; they clinked the necks together. "Congratulations -- you're my sofa's first visitor."

 

That rattled Alicia. Kalinda was clearly making an exception for her. A Kalinda who spent hour after hour alone. Once she would have assumed that outside the office, Kalinda was flitting from the barstools of Chicago to the beds of her lovers. It may not have had the security and predictability that family life held for Alicia, but it was how Kalinda had chosen to live her life. But in the months since Kalinda's recovery, Alicia was almost certain there had been no assignations. Kalinda was in the office as much as an associate looking to make partner. Nearly always there when Alicia arrived, chasing leads throughout the day, then outstaying her departure in the evening. Throwing herself into work was clearly the means Kalinda had chosen to deal with the aftermath of her husband's return to her life.

 

Other than a few token appearances at office drinks, Kalinda's human interactions for the last several months must have been solely work-related. It seemed desperately lonely to Alicia.

 

"How are you?" Alicia blurted out, uncharacteristically direct.

 

Kalinda set her bottle down on the glass coffee table (also new) and clicked the blade of the box cutter out. "Okay." She started to slice through the places where packing tape secured the painting's bubble-wrap protection, avoiding eye contact. "I've had a lot to think about."

 

Alicia could see a hesitancy to Kalinda's movements that was unlike her.

 

"I don't like the way I was." Kalinda paused. “I mean before . . .”

 

Alicia understood that Kalinda was referring to the time prior to Nick’s arrival in Chicago.

 

_Everything is you. Everything you want to be you, is you._

 

Alicia's eyes flicked around the room. It was nearly identical in plan to Kalinda's old apartment: one room combining living, dining and kitchen functions, and a doorway that led to a single bedroom. But there had been subtle changes. The walls were now a warm grey that enhanced the elegant lines of Kalinda's modernist furniture -- a small but significant alteration from the blinding sterility of Kalinda's former all-white decor. The minimalist sofa she sat on was upholstered in a subdued white wool, but it admitted the possibility of company, and at her feet was a positively loud (for Kalinda) rug made up of abstract patterned panels in black, grey and beige.

 

_I didn't like my life, so I changed it._

 

The click of a blade retracting brought her attention back to the moment.

 

"Could I get your help hanging it?"

 

"Sure." Alicia got quickly to her feet and took one end.

 

Both women coordinated the slightly awkward movement of holding out the hanging wire on the back of the canvas' stretcher to snag the two screws Kalinda had plugged into the wall in anticipation of her new purchase.

 

"Let me know if it's level?"

 

Alicia stepped back several paces. "Up a bit on the left. Stop."

 

Kalinda stood next to her, then they both took their places on the couch.

 

"So, what do you think?"

 

Alicia stole a quick glance at her. Kalinda seemed amused. "It's white."

 

"It's not white -- the sky's a pale blue and the sand's a pale yellow."

 

 _Only just_ , thought Alicia. "It's a landscape?"

 

"Isn't it?"

 

Alicia looked again at her companion. Definitely amused, a tiny smirk present. Alicia snorted softly into her beer. "I like it. Serene . . ."

 

It was. As the minutes ticked by, Alicia began to appreciate the spare, uncluttered aesthetics of Kalinda's apartment. It was a complete contrast to her own. She liked her apartment, but at times the fact that the contents of a large suburban house were now stuffed into a three bedroom apartment felt obvious. It required meticulous organisation paired with constant picking up and tidying for Alicia to maintain the look she wanted.

 

"Yeah." Kalinda took another swig of her beer. "Good. I'm happy with it." Part of her next swallow went down the wrong way and she had to clear her throat. Alicia being in her apartment was a big deal, not just because it was a significant event in their friendship, but because she'd chosen to reveal herself in the process of metamorphosis. The vulnerability left her shaken.

 

Both women continued to drink slowly in silence. Not for the first time, Kalinda appreciated the fact that they were good at that.

 

Kalinda was tackling the second transformation of her life in increments. The first time, it had been like swinging an axe through herself. Everything that she associated with Leela Tahiri was sheared away and discarded: her name, expectations, domesticity, emotions, dependance. Instead Kalinda Sharma was detached, and did whatever she pleased.

 

Then Alicia Florrick changed her.

 

Suddenly she cared. And kept on caring, more and more with each passing month of their relationship. It started out fun: championing Alicia; easing her path; manipulating outcomes to Alicia's advantage. But first Blake, then Peter, and finally Nick himself revisited Leela upon Kalinda.

 

Kalinda knew this was another “second” chance. This time a genuine one since Nick could no longer harm her and there were no more blameful secrets to poison her present. But she was painfully aware of the wounds that seemed to be permanent in her relationship with Alicia. Simultaneously, she was struggling to sketch the new version of Kalinda Sharma she wanted to live as.

 

Kalinda realised she was about to drain the last third of the bottle in one go and forced herself to put it down on the table. Alicia's earlier question still hung in the air and Kalinda waved it back at her.

 

"How are _you_?"

 

Alicia suddenly found the label on her bottle fascinating. "Owen thinks I'm treading water."

 

Kalinda regarded her. "There seems to be plenty going on in your life where I sit."

 

Alicia inserted a fingernail under one corner of the label then stopped herself. "No, that I ought to come to an agreement with Peter . . ."

 

Kalinda internalised the visceral reaction his name prompted in her, then took a steadying breath in an attempt to adjust to the idea that he could be a topic of conversation between them.

 

"Double lives require careful management." It was hard to imagine a marriage under closer scrutiny than the Florricks'. Although she couldn’t conceive of Peter accepting Alicia renewing things with Will, no matter how valuable her public support was to him politically.

 

Alicia's wry acknowledgement was visible as she rolled her eyes and drank again. "Not that so much . . . more just," she paused, "It's over, and that's not going to change." She remembered watching Peter and the kids through the window, eating pizza. How she felt separate from whatever new future lay in front of the three of them in their old (new) house. She'd taken too many steps in a different direction in the past three-and-a-half years -- her future lay down a different path.

 

Both women resumed drinking their beer. When Alicia set her bottle on the coffee table, it seemed to mark the end of that topic.

 

"I do have something to ask you." Alicia let her back touch the couch cushions.

 

Kalinda looked warily expectant.

 

"Yes, be worried." Alicia couldn't help but laugh slightly. "It's about Grace."

 

"Okay . . ." Kalinda didn't look a lot less concerned than before.

 

"It's true. She does need to start finding things to pad out college applications." Alicia's lips twitched. "And uh, she really does seem determined to learn shooting."

 

Kalinda's chin dipped and her eyebrows shot up. "You want me to teach a hormonal teenager how to fire a weapon?"

 

Alicia snorted quietly. "Yes, firearm lessons. I'm actually serious. It's been discussed." She avoided mentioning Peter's name again.

 

Kalinda shook her head, clearly still in a state of wonderment. "I can teach her how to handle a firearm, but I don't know much about competition shooting. I don't even know what her school's shooting club does."

 

"That wouldn't matter." Alicia assured her. "This is just to get a feel for it and decide if it's something she wants to pursue. If she does, I'm sure there are instructors."

 

Kalinda's expression clearly asked why bother with her as middleman at all.

 

Alicia looked serious. "Grace likes you. I think she'd get a better idea of whether it's something she really wants to do if you taught her first. I worry a formal instructor might be intimidating, but she’d feel like she has to stick it out. You teaching her would be a one-off thing that doesn't have to go anywhere."

 

"Alright." Kalinda nodded, already thinking about how she'd go about initiating Grace Florrick to firing a gun.

 

"Also," Alicia knew Kalinda had a good idea of how impressionable Grace could be, "I trust you just to teach her, not turn her into some NRA adherent."

 

Kalinda snorted in agreement.

 

"I'd pay your freelance rate of course."

 

Kalinda made a noise and tossed her head.

 

"It's an imposition."

 

"No!" Kalinda's voice allowed no further discussion about monies.

 

"Fine." Alicia had the urge to do something childish like sticking out her tongue at Kalinda. The light-hearted feeling she used to get appeared to be returning as they spent more time together.

 

"It must be difficult being Grace." Kalinda suddenly had her musing tone.

 

Grace's mother visibly reacted to that.

 

Kalinda tried to correct course, that hadn't come out as she'd intended. "No, I mean, compared to Zach." And _you_ , she thought but didn't say. "Things come so easily to him, but she seems to have to work hard for all her achievements."

 

"That's true." Alicia had to agree. There was an obvious contrast between the patient slog required for Grace's B+'s and the last-minute flurry of activity that would bring Zach at least an A-.

 

"Sucks to be just smart in a family of geniuses." Kalinda decided to include Alicia in there after all. Today felt easier, easy enough to tease again.

 

It had been literally years since Alicia had felt the special sensation that talking like this to Kalinda used to produce in her, that slight buzz that wasn't from the alcohol they'd consumed.

 

"Did you just call me a genius?"

 

Kalinda grinned and blinked. "It seems unlikely I'd say that about a parent that wants their kid to know how to kill someone."

 

It had been years since they'd laughed together too.

 

"Let me know a time that suits you two."

 

Alicia hadn't considered that she might be in attendance too. But she was already imagining it: Kalinda at her most Kalindaish, clad in leather and holding a gun. Ridiculously, she almost shivered at the image.

 

"Seriously, there's no way I'm taking on an armed teenager by myself." Kalinda insisted.

 

Alicia nodded -- point.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen tries some meddling in Alicia's life with theoretically platonic results...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to my beta readers: hotladykisses and Scarlet.

Alicia was more shaken than she had expected to be. Confrontation in cold blood was not something that would ever be comfortable for her. She turned her key in the ignition and drove away from the familiar frontage of her old house, relieved when the manicured lawns gave way to more urban surroundings as she entered the city. That Owen was due to come over to her apartment in a couple of hours to hang out for the evening was a welcome distraction.

She had calculated her moment well. Grace and Zach were indeed out with respective groups of friends for the afternoon and Peter was home alone preparing a speech. His look of surprise on opening the door to her kept flashing before her eyes.

Surprise had given way to bewilderment, and then some barely-concealed anger as she'd explained the reason for her visit. She'd kept up an internal mantra that there was no reason Peter should expect more than a political marriage to keep up appearances and it had worked. Hence she'd shut him down when he'd started down the track of "Is this about Wi . . .?" telling him firmly that there was no one. Then she'd followed through on the promise she'd made herself -- his copy of her apartment key was safely stowed in her handbag.

It felt unfair to spring it on him just weeks before the election, but the decision had settled on her and demanded to be enacted. A week from now would be busier still. And after the election, win or lose, it would always be one thing or another.

It was workable, she told herself as she parked her car. Support each other publicly; co-parent their children; and move on with their lives privately. She tested the idea of Peter with someone else in her head and felt only indifference bordering on relief. And for herself there was no desire to seek companionship, but there was relief too at the idea of drawing a line that divided her past from her future.

Nevertheless, she felt more equal to company (even Owen's) after a couple of glasses of red wine in the privacy of her kitchen.

"Hey sis." And then she was comfortably enfolded in Owen's arms and the soft material of his hoodie. Owen felt her press closer than normal and when they parted he gave her a questioning look.

"I talked to Peter."

"Oh . . ." Owen walked with her through the hall and into the kitchen where he took a stool. "How did it go?"

Alicia shrugged. "It's done." She had no intention of giving a blow-by-blow recap.

Owen just looked at her shrewdly but said nothing. After a few beats he moved to her fridge and opened the door.

"What?"

"Checking to see if you have any champagne. We should crack it, and then I'll leave and let you call Will."

Alicia snorted derisively. "Will and I won't be happening."

"Oh really, and why is . . ."

"Owen!" His sister cut him off.

Owen shut the fridge door. "You don't have any champagne anyway. So how about we get down that tequila," his eyes flitted to a high-up shelf, "And call Kalinda instead?"

"Just drop it! It's really not like that." Alicia hadn't realised how brittle she was until her façade shattered.

"Hey . . ." Owen's hands were placating, ". . . not how I meant it at all." _Although it's revealing that you went there_ he wisely didn't say aloud. "All I was thinking was, how about having a friend over, get nice and drunk, and we'll all just kick back."

Alicia had turned to face the cupboards, embarrassed at herself.

"Come on Alicia. It could be fun, I liked her -- she was interesting. When have I ever said that about one of your friends?"

"It's a Saturday, she might be busy." But Alicia's voice was softening as she turned back. She knew Kalinda was likely to be either at work or home. Going out didn't seem to be on her agenda anymore.

"Why not just ask and see? We'll do something incredibly lame like watch a movie. It'll be so unlikely I'm sure she'll jump at it." Owen was actually pretty certain the chance of Kalinda declining an invitation from his sister was minimal. "I even volunteer to do the asking." He held out his hand for Alicia's phone.

Alicia wasn't sure why she was acquiescing as she handed it to her brother. She watched him scroll and find Kalinda's name. She could overhear the pleased lilt to Kalinda's "Hey." as she answered a call she thought was from Alicia.

"Kalinda, it's Owen. We're having a night in and wondered if you'd like to join us? Apparently getting soused in public is unseemly during a political campaign."

Owen turned his back to her and Alicia could no longer make out Kalinda's replies to Owen's side of the conversation, but she must have agreed since Owen signed off jauntily with, "No need to bring anything -- just yourself," before returning Alicia’s phone to her.

"Really? A movie?"

"Don't worry, I'll come up with something. Just check you've got some popcorn."

Alicia did have popcorn. She even had limes to slice into wedges and add to the tray she was preparing with shot glasses and her bottle of Patrón. She realised she was fussing as she debated tequila paired with popcorn and whether she ought to be sending Owen out to supplement the meagre four bottles of beer in her fridge.

She made herself stop and carried the tray to the living room. Owen had exceeded his mandate and had not just chosen something for the night but completely transformed her Netflix list.

"I had the most perfect idea." Owen sounded smug enough to concern her. Visions of him contriving to sit her next to Kalinda through three hours of _Blue is the Warmest Colour_ briefly alarmed her before she saw what he'd chosen.

"Isn't that a Doris Day movie?"

"You mean you've never seen it? Oh Alicia . . ."

"Gay men . . . I suppose I should be grateful it's not Barbra Streisand. Why do you think Kalinda's going to enjoy _Calamity Jane_ anyway, Owen?"

"Yep -- you've never seen it! You'll find out, sis."

She didn't need to come up with a retort because the doorbell rang. The time it took her to settle the tray on the padded bench gave Owen the opportunity to beat her and greet their guest.

He was laying it on thick.

"I'm so glad you could come." Alicia could hear the slither and creak of Kalinda's jacket being removed. "And don't you look lovely as always."

She did. Although even the toned-down weekend version of her look seemed out-of-place compared to Alicia in her jeans, cardigan, and socks, and Owen in his usual state of rumpled comfort -- a bird of paradise in the midst of a flock of pigeons.

Alicia was still suspicious of her brother's manipulations. The fact that he'd swiftly taken one end of the three-seater sofa so that she had to sit next to Kalinda or make her distance obvious by putting herself or her guest in the armchair did nothing to alleviate it.

Owen was already pouring shots. "Ladies?" He was determined not to give his sister a choice.

Alicia gave in and sat in the middle of the couch. She patted the cushion next to her. Kalinda seemed to perch rather than sit -- somehow she managed to take up even less room than her relatively tiny frame required.

Owen leaned over to pass Kalinda a glass and offer her the bowl of limes. Once Alicia was also supplied, he toasted. "To unseemly behaviour behind closed doors!"

Kalinda snorted while Alicia side-eyed him. But they all downed their shots.

"So, what's the plan for the evening? Will one bottle of tequila be enough?" Kalinda raised her eyebrows at Owen.

"See, I knew I liked you! And I don't know, can you drink as much as my sister?"

Kalinda held her glass forward, Owen obliged. He nudged Alicia and filled hers too. They all swallowed their second round.

The cushions deflected under Kalinda as she allowed herself to settle a little more firmly. She did like Owen, but there was definitely a feeling lingering that she was present at his contrivance rather than Alicia's, and given their fraught history, that made it hard to simply relax.

Owen switched the television back on with a flourish of remote.

Kalinda snorted as she lipped her lime wedge. "Did you choose that on my account?"

Owen just winked and answered with a question, "Can you believe Alicia hasn't seen it?"

"Perish the thought." was Kalinda's reply.

"Clearly I'm missing something." Alicia interjected.

"You'll see." promised her brother.

She did see: Doris in drag; men in drag; the relationship between Jane and Katie that was more intense than either had with their respective love interests . . . Owen falsettoed his way through “A Woman’s Touch” with enough innuendo to make Kalinda snort and even Alicia felt herself giving way to a giggle. Kalinda unwound enough in Owen’s company to make numerous acerbic remarks on the eye-watering racism of the 1950s. By the time Doris was singing her lungs out with “Once I had a secret love . . .” Alicia had both enough alcohol and relaxation on board to admit to herself that _sometimes_ Owen had good ideas and that she was enjoying herself. She knew her brother was a connoisseur of both old movies and camp (preferably together), but she realised she’d never thought to wonder what Kalinda liked in terms of books, movies, music, and so forth.

The pleasant buzz sent her thoughts wandering further. How was it that she could sense the warmth of Kalinda sitting next to her, despite the fact that her friend was still neatly compact and inches away? Owen sprawling out in his usual informality and practically leaning on her shoulder didn’t intrude on her senses a fraction as much.

She reached forward to pick up the popcorn bowl that Owen had recently refilled and ate a few mouthfuls. Her fingers drifted into it again and met Kalinda’s. She managed to transform the jerk of her hand back into just a small movement away, then swallowed the urge to apologise for something she had no need to, along with the popcorn. Her eyes met Kalinda’s -- there was an unspoken apology there too. Alicia set the bowl on the cushion between them and hoped that it communicated that sharing was okay. She was careful to make sure Kalinda’s hand wasn’t in the bowl when she next reached in though, despite her mind telling her it was nothing.

Kalinda didn't miss the sudden escalation of tension from the woman next to her. She decided to attribute it to the teething pains of the new version of their relationship and tried to not react.

By the time the full ninety-seven minutes had elapsed, Alicia managed to rediscover her feeling of ease. It helped to tell herself that letting Owen’s fantasies ruin the friendship she was rebuilding, was giving a few off-the-cuff jabs far too much power. She remained slouched into the pillows and tucked her feet under her, making no move to clear up and imply her guests should be on their way.

Owen was still in snark mode, and seemingly one of the few people not intimidated by Kalinda. “It’s very pleasing to meet a young person like yourself who’s not completely ignorant of your kind’s rich cultural history.”

The sharp toe of Kalinda’s boot connected with Owen’s ankle none too gently. She then waved a hand at his socks and Birkenstocks. “Please -- you're a bigger lesbian than I'll ever be.”

“Okay, okay -- no kicking.” Alicia mommed jokingly. Owen pretended to cover behind her shoulder and stuck his tongue out at Kalinda.

Kalinda had managed to let go of her worry under the influence of the evening's camaraderie and nestled herself casually into her corner giggling softly.

“That’s my sister -- always trying to stop a good time. She’d try to break up a pillow fight.”

“I must have been hoping for an evening at home with adult conversation.” Alicia shrugged her brother off her back.

“You might have invited the wrong people.” Owen countered.

“I’m going to plead falling in with the wrong crowd,” Kalinda began.

Alicia wanted to interrupt and tell her that it was actually nice seeing her being so entirely non-serious for once, but was still reaching for a way to word it that didn’t sound patronising in her still-addled brain.

“But I’ll suggest we do it again anyway.” Kalinda's eyes addressed her next comment to Alicia. “We should set up a time for Grace’s lesson. You can invite him too if you want.”

Alicia realised that she had let the timing of Grace’s introduction to shooting remain unscheduled after Kalinda had agreed to it. She refocused -- Kalinda, Grace, and firearms seemed like enough excitement for one outing. “I’m sure Owen’s too much of a pacifist.” She stated firmly.

Owen seemed to take the hint for once. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d fit in on that one. Girl power!”

Kalinda’s snort was heard again. “I know you’re busy . . .” (An understatement with the election closing in. Eli had Alicia scheduled for nearly every moment outside work, starting on Monday.) “How about after?”

Alicia reached for her phone on the bench in front of her, it had been mercifully silent all evening. “What about the Saturday after?” Gunfire might be an appropriate way to let out some feelings no matter whether Peter won or lost.

Kalinda’s hand slid into her boot and added an entry into her BlackBerry’s calendar. “Done. Just let me know if you need to change it.”

“You’re such a considerate friend . . .” Owen used such a simper it prompted Kalinda to offer him one finger of her hand.

Alicia swatted at him, Owen had been right about Kalinda being different. All her previous friends had either offended her brother, been offended by him, or both. It was a welcome change to have two people that mattered to her (the phrasing slid into her mind involuntarily) get along with each other.

“I think I should leave before I do something worse.” Kalinda slid her phone back into its hiding place and began to get to her feet.

Alicia uncurled herself in response, but offered “You don’t have to. There’s no rush.” She saw that intensity once again in Kalinda’s eyes as the other woman appreciated the intention.

“Thank you,” was said quietly. “But I actually have a very early morning.”

“On a Sunday?” interjected Owen. “What dreadful people you must work for.”

Kalinda nodded, mock sorrowful. “A 6:00 a.m. start to spending the whole day in my car for surveillance. Thrilling . . .”

“I hope the subjects are extremely attractive _and_ get naked for you.”

Kalinda smirked at Owen. “They’re not, but if the board members of rival pharmaceutical companies get it on with each other, it will put a different spin on Diane’s case.” She smoothed down her skirt. “Okay, good seeing you again, Owen.” And she made her move to leave.

Alicia got to her feet and followed Kalinda into the hall, her steps momentarily unsteady. She picked up Kalinda's jacket from where Owen had laid it on a chair. The leather was smooth and cool under her fingers. She almost moved to help Kalinda into her coat but just handed it to her instead.

"How are you getting home?" Alicia asked knowing she was lapsing into mom mode again -- there was no way Kalinda could be under the limit after the amount she'd had to drink.

"I made an assumption and came in a cab." Kalinda smiled, then shrugged, zipped up her jacket, stepped away, and turned back one step before the door. "Thanks. I really did enjoy the evening." Kalinda pushed away the desire to linger -- she wanted to avoid overstaying her welcome.

"So did I." Alicia had. How long had it been since she'd spent time drinking to get giggly and feel free of responsibility, instead of using wine as a means to finish each day before going to bed knowing the next day was likely to be even more challenging?

Tonight felt like a quantum shift. Kalinda was her friend -- definitely her friend. Someone who made her life better -- not just someone who had skills that proved useful at times. The realisation led Alicia to an impulsive action. One hand resting gently on Kalinda's shoulder (it had been years since they used to casually touch each other) she dipped her head to quickly peck Kalinda on the cheek. That was a normal thing to do, she and Lauren Chatham used to kiss each other hello and goodbye, and Lauren hadn't been anywhere near as staunch an ally as Kalinda.

Lauren hadn't reacted like Kalinda did though. Alicia felt the shoulder under her hand stiffen and when she drew back, Kalinda's eyes were huge and startled.

There was a moment's pause before Kalinda tipped her face up to return Alicia's gesture, knowing that she had to reciprocate or things would become unbearably awkward.

Kalinda's movements appeared to happen in slow-motion and Alicia had time to realise the extent to which she'd put the other woman on the spot.

Alicia felt the heat of Kalinda's small fingers rest on her upper arm even through fabric and then just a second's touch of lips against her cheek. A normal, everyday, chaste thing that friends did. Except it felt anything but chaste -- Alicia had never before been aware of the softness of a friend's lips, the moist warmth of exhaled breath against her skin, or the heightened smell of perfume close to her nose.

Kalinda's face withdrew, and finally Alicia saw it. All of Owen's insinuations seemed to crowd the hallway. _She's got it bad for you_ , he'd said. How had she not seen it before? Had she always been looking the other way when it showed on Kalinda's face? Did it take an outsider to see it? Or had Alicia just refused to see what she was looking at?

Both women let their respective hands fall away. Alicia knew she was staring. If it were anyone but Kalinda, Alicia would have called the expression on the woman before her "terrified."

Alicia broke the silence since Kalinda didn't seem capable of it and surely one of them had to say _something_. "I'll see you at work."

Kalinda could only nod and then slip through the door the moment Alicia had opened it wide enough. She strode quickly to the elevator and resisted the temptation to look back.

When Alicia closed her door, she could see her hands were shaking.

"Sis? You ever coming back?" Owen's voice intruded through the door to the living room.

She walked back on autopilot.

"I can't believe you're going to let Grace fire a gun. Frankly, you ought to make the most of it and do it before the election and get a camera crew there."

Letting Owen rail about the hypocrisy of liberals on gun control come election time was a safe topic. Nice and safe. She only needed a little bit of her brain to turn it into a spirited argument that emptied the last of the tequila and sent Owen tottering towards the elevator and his own taxi home.

And then she was finally alone. Something she simultaneously wanted and feared.

Mechanically she cleared glasses and bowls, switched off lights, and ran through her bedtime routine. Subconsciously she selected her least favourite and frumpiest pyjamas before climbing into bed and pulling the comforter high up under her chin.

Memories crowded her.

Donna and her hostile compliments. She’d dismissed Donna’s assumptions easily at the time. It was too silly, such a leap to a conclusion based on seeing her hold Kalinda’s hand.

The same with Lana showing up in Alicia’s office to claim her territory, which was also ridiculous given that Kalinda was no one’s territory, and the two of them were only just getting back on speaking terms, let alone something else. Alicia had thought back after that encounter, about this FBI agent who seemed familiar but she couldn’t quite place. She’d actually had to go back and consult her old day planner to find notes about the proffer meeting and police corruption. She was pretty sure that was the only prior occasion she and Lana had been in the same room. Well, briefly, before Lana asked her to recuse herself. That had been an idiotic conclusion to draw too. Kalinda sticking up for her was simply professional, they were on the same side, and that was what Kalinda did -- stick up for her.

Alicia had never stopped to ask herself why Kalinda did these things for her. Or why all these women who wanted to bed Kalinda treated her like a rival they wanted to call out. She shied away from it even now.

Other thoughts surfaced: Kalinda, still there, still ever-helpful, but quietly in the background since Alicia had found out about Peter. Riding to the rescue, unasked and unthanked when Grace had inadvertently caused her mother to fear the worst. And afterwards slowly, Kalinda creeping back into her life -- clearly wanting to be there, pushing for it harder than Alicia was prepared to accept.

Then the most damning piece of evidence: Kalinda's husband. _Is he dangerous?_ The escalating situation had rung alarm bells with Alicia, she was pretty sure the answer was yes. After all, Kalinda had abandoned a life and disappeared to start a new one because of him once already. And Kalinda knew she'd been found, knew it was only a matter of time, but she had stayed.

Kalinda had the shallowest of roots -- no family, no children, no partner, no mortgage, not even a pet -- just a job, a quiet bond with one of her bosses that Alicia found a little mystifying, and a broken friendship still showing the cracks where it had been glued together. And she'd chosen to sit still and wait to be found -- a choice that had nearly cost her life.

It took a long time before Alicia attained a state of drowsiness and approached actual sleep. Before she finally succumbed, it occurred to her that in the tumult of the evening, she'd forgotten that she'd effectively called an end to her marriage just a few hours earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firearms and unintended wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to my beta readers: hotladykisses and Scarlet. (They worked incredibly hard to iron the wrinkles out of this chapter.)

Kalinda exhaled and prepared her shoulders to absorb the gun’s recoil before squeezing the trigger. The bullet pierced the centre of the target. Grace’s “Cool!” was just discernible through her earmuffs. She shot again another four times to make a tight group of punctures on the target before re-aiming four more times in succession to put a neat hole in each concentric ring of the bullseye, leaving a perfect horizontal line.    
  
She lowered her hands and removed the clip from the handgun, setting it on the shelf in front of her, pleased with her performance.  
  
She'd gone by herself, the previous week, to a range across town where there was little chance of being recognised. She hadn’t wanted to take the chance of freezing up in front of Grace and Alicia when taking her first shot since that night in her apartment. The grip in her hands had been unfamiliar. She hadn’t bothered to reclaim the Glock she’d used to kill Nick with from the police. By now it had probably been destroyed by the State of Illinois.  
  
The practice had been necessary. Her aim was still true, but her firing had been hesitant and her breath had come shakily. It had taken several clips’ worth of ammunition before the pistol felt like an extension of her body again, and she was mentally prepared to repeat the performance before someone else.  
  
Turning Alicia down and not teaching Grace, avoiding the need to confront her memories of that night (and lack of them), hadn't occurred to her.  
  
Today was going well -- Grace was bright-eyed and eager. The warmth of Alicia’s smile when she had presented herself at the apartment door to pick them up had already made her effort more than worthwhile. Kalinda motioned for Grace and Alicia to take off their ear-protection and stepped aside to allow Grace to stand next to her at the front of the booth.  
  
Alicia hadn't been in the conference room all those years ago when Kalinda showed up with two cases full of handguns and proceeded to whip everyone present into a lather, (she'd had the dubious honour of meeting Colin Sweeney for the first time in Will's office instead.) But Kalinda's little demonstration of clips, slides, and weaponry had rapidly acquired legendary status at Lockhart Gardner. Alicia could still remember the glazed look Cary had given Kalinda later that day as the investigator descended the stairs to the twenty-seventh floor.  
  
Despite having some idea of the effect Kalinda handling a gun had on people, Alicia was unprepared for the impact of it on her. Standing in the booth behind Grace and Kalinda, on the near-deserted firing range; observing as Kalinda now explained each part of the weapon in front of her, broke it down, then rebuilt it, showing to Grace how to do the same; she was struck by the erotic quality to Kalinda's confident, practiced movements as she handled the small pieces of sleek, seductive metal that had deadly potential.  
  
The shots fired by the two other people on the range were audible. Alicia doubted either of them had ever used a gun on another person, let alone kill someone. She shivered, causing Kalinda to look at her with eyes full of intensity. Mercifully, Kalinda finally looked away and returned her attention to Grace.  
  
After their “goodbye” kiss, the Sunday spent apart had been useful. Alicia had used the time to minimise. Perhaps Kalinda was attracted to her, maybe it even constituted a crush, but that didn't have to change things. She'd suspected Kalinda was not straight from early on in their acquaintance. Maybe the subconscious thought that Kalinda might be attracted to her was even what had initially caused Alicia to be so curious about Kalinda's sexual orientation. None of this was new, Alicia told herself -- her awareness of it was the only novelty.  
  
Kalinda had spent her long, boring day in her car pondering where she now stood with Alicia. The raw sting of exposure waned over the day. Perhaps Alicia hadn't even interpreted her momentary loss of control correctly. And why would she? She had never questioned Kalinda about the motives behind her steadfast support -- why should she start now?  
  
When they'd met on their way into the Monday morning staff meeting, they'd been able to meet each other's eyes and take seats next to each other at the conference table like friends. By the time the afternoon was stretching into evening and they'd begun to cover the surface of a conference room table with paperwork for Alicia's case, things felt back to the new normal. Alicia even regretted when it came time to depart for her meet up with Peter and Eli for campaign commitments, leaving Kalinda alone with file boxes and a takeout menu.  
  
However, several weeks’ worth of the frenetic distraction of campaigning, the election day, victory party, and photo opportunities, as well as the reassurance that things were normal with Kalinda, was evaporating before Alicia's eyes this afternoon on that firing range. And it was a startling realisation that becoming First Lady of Illinois was an abstraction compared to the changes taking place between her and Kalinda. The objective intellectual knowledge that Kalinda was an extremely attractive woman was becoming something much more subjective.  
  
Once Grace could correctly check that the gun was unloaded, Kalinda took her through a drill of dry-firing. Kalinda adjusted Grace's stance and grip with small, precise touches and had her repeat pulling the trigger several times. Alicia relished the fact that Kalinda's back was turned and used the time to compose herself.  
  
"You're still moving your hand each time you pull the trigger Grace."  
  
"It's hard though! It's heavy for one thing." Grace let her arms rest.  
  
"You need to squeeze your trigger finger, not yank with it."  
  
"Maybe if you’d just let me use it for real I'd do better . . ."  
  
"Maybe you should find someone else to teach you if you don't want to do it this way."  
  
Alicia snorted quietly as Kalinda shut down the teenager.  
  
Grace meekly resumed her shooting stance.  
  
Seemingly she managed to turn Kalinda's instructions into actions, because at long last the order came. "Okay, earmuffs on. Let's see what you can do."  
  
Kalinda replaced her target with a new one, and repeated the motions necessary to fill the gun's clip. It was a new Beretta 92 FS, a compact, easy gun to use which was a good choice for Grace's small hands to grip compared with a larger piece like her Desert Eagle. Her fingers remembered the movements automatically. Just as well, because she was well and truly distracted this afternoon. She was doubly glad she’d taken that practice session because she could feel tension growing once more between her and Alicia. They'd been normal at work the last few weeks, even managing a slightly odd version of celebratory drinks after the election, but today her back felt like it was exposed to a volatile chemical instead of merely Alicia's eyes.  
  
She handed the weapon back to Grace and watched her take up position before retreating to the side of the booth. The teenager was impressively confident and with little hesitation, squeezed out a shot that made the paper just outside the target itself. Kalinda nodded to the air, as instead of turning to check for approval, Grace narrowed her eyes and took aim again, this time getting the shot in the third ring. She kept aiming and firing. All but one shot made the paper.  
  
Everyone copied Kalinda as she removed her ear protection. She turned the winch to bring the target back up the wire. The target jerked to a stop in front of them. Kalinda detached it and handed it to Grace.  
  
“Wanna keep it?” Kalinda’s smile was clearly demonstrating her approval of Grace’s efforts.  
  
“Definitely!” Grace bounced enthusiastically.  
  
Alicia thanked (she assumed) Kalinda’s sensitivity, that the memento of Grace’s first target shooting was an abstract measure of skill and not the outline of a person with bullet holes through his face.  
  
Kalinda reloaded the clip and slapped it back into the gun. “Okay, I’m going to go again. This time watch my shoulders and how I breathe. You were aiming well, but you were tensing before firing and that’s why you strayed.”  
  
Everyone replaced their earmuffs again. Kalinda took up position again in the centre of the booth. Alicia was as attentive as her daughter. Initially she observed as Kalinda had directed, saw the way she kept her shoulders low and relaxed. Then she watched Kalinda breathe. It only took two shots at the fresh target before Alicia understood the point that was being made -- Kalinda pulled the trigger in the pause between breaths when her torso was at rest. She could appreciate that Kalinda was exaggerating the breaths, (and the way her hands raised and lowered with them,) purely for Grace’s benefit, however Alicia found herself mesmerised by Kalinda’s body.  
  
The investigator’s leather jacket was off, and she was wearing a simple jersey top that moved with her and didn’t restrict her arms. It wasn’t one of the elaborate silken numbers that she favoured for the office, but like all of Kalinda’s clothes it clung to each of her curves. From Alicia’s angle she could admire the way the width of Kalinda’s hips narrowed markedly to her waist. The way sharp shoulder blades showed through fabric. And beneath Kalinda’s raised arms, she watched the rise and fall of her left breast. Alicia told herself to stop looking at Kalinda in _that_ way, but was unsuccessful. She was both disappointed and relieved when Kalinda ceased firing and swapped for a new target again.  
  
Alicia was scarcely paying attention to her daughter. She removed her earmuffs before running her hands through her hair. She watched Kalinda stand behind Grace, as the teenager took her stance, placing a hand on each shoulder to shake out the tension.  
  
Alicia tripped headlong into fantasy land. Grace was gone -- it was just the two of them on an empty range. Kalinda’s hands were small and hot on Alicia’s shoulders and the breath that accompanied her speech disturbed the hair on the back of her neck. “You’re still tensing up.” Kalinda’s hands began to squeeze gently. “You need to relax.” Kalinda’s imagined warmth moved closer and pressed flesh, soft and feminine, against her back. “Alicia . . .”  
  
Alicia leapt as the sound of Grace’s gunshot (unattenuated by earmuffs) blasted her from reverie. Thankfully Kalinda didn’t react -- she must have been wholly occupied by her role as instructor. Alicia quickly donned her earmuffs and resolved to look at Grace, and only Grace.

* * *

  
When the investigator pulled up outside their apartment building, Alicia didn't press Kalinda to accept Grace's offer to come upstairs for a meal. She’d nodded with appropriate resignation as Kalinda declined due to work commitments. It was a safe way to say their farewells. Kalinda staying in her SUV meant there was no possibility of getting trapped in confusion about whether they were supposed to kiss good-bye now on social occasions.  
  
Grace bounded off as they entered the apartment door together -- eager to display her triumph to Zach and then, via her computer, to her friends.  
  
Alicia headed to the kitchen. She reached immediately for a bottle of red and a wine glass. One generous glassful went down with hardly a pause and a second was halfway finished before she began to seek the reassurance of normality from menial tasks like making dinner. She stood before the open door of the refrigerator, trying and failing to decide what to cook until the appliance beeped its indignation at her crimes against energy conservation.  
  
She gave up -- opening the freezer instead and removing a pizza. Turning on the oven was achievable.  

* * *

  
Alicia woke, gasping. She had been dreaming of Kalinda.  
  
She’d learnt from her back-and-forth with Will that apparently she was too repressed to daydream explicit scenarios and required unconsciousness. She examined the back of her eyelids for the image she had awoken from: Kalinda naked; Kalinda beneath her . . . yielding to her.  
  
Alicia knew she was wet, but slid a hand down her pyjama bottoms anyway. Really wet. Her hand retreated, she wasn’t able to actually go there and consciously touch herself to the thought of Kalinda. She had less control over her mind though and started wondering. What would sex with Kalinda look like, what would Kalinda look like? The few men Alicia had been with were all white. She couldn’t help contemplating how Kalinda would be different from her, all the while feeling deeply uncomfortable about where her thoughts were taking her. Imagining the colour of Kalinda’s nipples was in the realm of fantasies Alicia had only ever had about men she’d eventually gone to bed with.  
  
Her hand travelled down again involuntarily, one finger feeling the slippery sensation while her mind tried to conceive of doing the same to Kalinda. She brought the finger to her mouth, something she hadn’t done since she was a teenager holding a mirror between her legs and wondering how it would feel to lose her virginity, curiosity overwhelming her restraint. Would Kalinda taste like her or was every woman different? Was that somewhere Alicia could allow herself to travel even if she decided she wanted to?  
  
Alicia kicked her way out of bed, feeling the opposite of well-rested. Apparently this was the way her Sundays went now: worry about what happened with Kalinda on Saturday; try to repress it in time for work on Monday.  
  
That wasn't how she got to spend her Sunday though. Instead, a reorganisation of the back of the kitchen cupboards (something Alicia had convinced herself was urgently required) was interrupted by her phone. She picked up to Diane's voice with a sigh.  
  
Ten minutes later, she was dressed in weekend-casual lawyer mode and driving across town to a police station where one of Diane's corporate clients had gotten himself entangled in issues of personal criminality. And of course as she stepped in the door, there was Kalinda. The investigator was already ingratiating herself with the duty officer, and Alicia suspected it wouldn't be long before Diane had full knowledge of whatever the police had on their client.  
  
Kalinda raised eyebrows at her, smirked as Alicia moved past with a quick smile, and headed over to Diane. Her morning of attempted distraction in the kitchen hadn't helped much, her eyes had instantly catalogued what Kalinda was wearing and how she looked in it. Her fantasies from this morning rushed back with slight changes to the clothes Kalinda shed on her bedroom floor.  
  
She had to stop doing this Alicia told herself an hour later, leaving the room where Diane continued to discuss the incident with their client, before she found Kalinda to relay information. She was making a mess of the one part of her life that was in good order. There had been enough silently appraising gazes from Kalinda to tell her that her friend had picked up on the new tension that buzzed between them.  
  
It was easier thought than done though. Easy was part of the problem -- once they got stuck into work and began parsing the issues, it was so simple to just give in to the pleasure of working seamlessly with Kalinda. Both of them were naturals at their respective tasks -- but together they were capable of more than the sum of their talents. Diane had nodded appreciatively at their teamwork, as the last pieces of the puzzle that would undo the police’s case fell into place.  
  
“Fix it!” Diane had once commanded them. They had, and their work together was better than ever. What about now? And how exactly was Alicia supposed to fix something that currently wasn’t broken?  
  
After the better part of the day, Diane led them outside, stepped into the weakening winter sunshine, and settled sunglasses on her nose. "I wonder what on earth our client was doing in this part of town?"  
  
Alicia smothered a snort -- they were only a few blocks from Kalinda's apartment building.  
  
"Oh well, I guess that's his business." Diane pulled the belt of her overcoat tighter. "See you at work tomorrow."  
  
Alicia and Kalinda watched her stride off. Kalinda turned to Alicia. "Um, I guess we should probably take what's left of our Sunday, and . . ."  
  
"Do you want to go for a drink?" Alicia cut her off. It was perhaps a little early, but the sun was already disappearing behind the taller buildings.  
  
“Sure,” Kalinda’s response was near automatic. The unease that had radiated from Alicia last night and earlier today seemed to have dissipated. After all, why would Alicia seek to spend more time together if she didn’t want to?  
  
Alicia tramped a pace behind Kalinda as she led them two blocks closer to her apartment building. A sensible person would have gone home and taken away the satisfaction of a job well done; a sensible person would not risk another stumble into unknown territory for no good reason.  
  
Kalinda pushed open a door. “Warning -- it’s not fancy.”  
  
It wasn’t. Nothing at all like the downtown watering holes they usually drank in, where expensive suits jostled to buy overpriced drinks. It was a comfortably-worn, neighbourhood bar -- Kalinda’s local in fact, Alicia realised as the barman nodded at them.  
  
“Tequila?” Kalinda wouldn’t normally ask the question, but Alicia wasn’t usually facing a drive across town afterwards.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“Jason.” Kalinda held up two fingers.  
  
Their shots arrived quickly.  
  
“Been a while. Come by to chat sometime you don’t have company.” Jason told Kalinda, but also eyeing Alicia. “I might have a client for you.”  
  
“Hard luck story? Or the type that can pay?” Kalinda had clearly gotten work here before.  
  
“Your favourite -- both.” Jason smiled and returned to his conversation at the opposite end of the bar as both women took their shots in hand.  
  
They eyed each other and nodded. The tequila disappeared from each glass. Alicia took a breath and wiped her lips, finally looking up to see Kalinda obviously on the verge of trying to say something to her.  
  
“He didn’t think that we were. . .” Kalinda paused, a look that might be embarrassment on her features. “I don’t bring people here,” she clarified.  
  
Alicia managed to swallow her “Oh,” and just nod. She looked around the bar instead, realising that Kalinda had let her into one of her private spaces.  
  
“Do you want another ro . . .” Kalinda’s question was cut off by someone else’s aggressive tone.  
  
“Hey, you’re the Governor’s wife!”  
  
Alicia straightened. Being recognised was something she was failing to get used to. The rapid thought process that followed to calculate whether the context she was in had the potential to be politically damaging, promised a headache afterwards. She didn’t have Peter’s ability to glad-handle on a moment’s notice, but court had at least taught her to dissemble with the best, so no one would suspect the smile she hoisted to her lips wasn’t genuine.  
  
“Yes, I am.”  
  
“Your husband is an asshole!” The man was obviously more than a little liquored-up.  
  
Kalinda turned to insert herself in his space, sheltering Alicia. "She's just here to get a drink.”  
  
“I don’t give a fuck where the First Lady decides to slum it.” The obscenity attracted Jason’s attention and he began to walk towards them. “Her husband thinks he can cut my pension!”  
  
“Hey!” The bartender’s voice was firm, “Get back to the other side, leave these ladies in peace, or I’ll make you.”  
  
The man retreated, still casting a look in Alicia’s direction. The bartender gestured towards the tequila bottle.  
  
“Thanks, but I think we’ll go.” Kalinda slid a twenty over.  
  
“Don’t worry about that. I’m sorry your night got ruined.”  
  
Alicia watched Kalinda squeeze Jason’s wrist reassuringly. The investigator, was always so good at keeping useful contacts, but seemingly so disastrous when it came to her more personal relationships. It was something else they had in common, albeit Alicia’s disasters were less extreme and usually not irrevocable.  
  
The cold air on the now-darkened street bit at Alicia’s skin. She watched the blue of a convenience store’s neon sign reflect on the gloss of Kalinda’s hair as she turned to face her.  
  
“Do you want to go to . . . ?” Kalinda’s head indicated the direction of her apartment.  
  
“Sure.” And she did. Alicia didn’t want to end the day feeling like she’d been driven away.  
  
They walked the block to Kalinda’s lobby. Alicia kept her hands thrust in her pockets -- in the haste and distraction of the morning she’d forgotten her gloves.  
  
They both inhaled with relief as warmth embraced them inside the building. Alicia took off her coat once in Kalinda’s door and found her eyes scanning the room to see if Kalinda had made more changes.  
  
Kalinda was already in the kitchen, but knew what her friend was doing. “You can’t see it -- new crockery and glassware.” She opened a cupboard. “I can be classy now, we don’t need to pass the bottle back and forth.”  
  
Alicia nodded to Kalinda’s offer of a red wine, noting that it was one that she had in her own cupboard and wondering if that was why Kalinda had bought it.  
  
Kalinda handed Alicia a glass and indicated the sofa. It was actually nicer, thought Alicia (going so far as slipping her feet out of her heels,) to be here in comfort and warmth than in the bar down the block. They began an easy conversation about Diane's client and how today's incident would affect his other legal matters, then let it trail off naturally until there were just the sounds of the street beyond Kalinda's windows as they took occasional sips from their glasses.  
  
They were good at silences, there had never been pressure to break them. So it didn't make any sense, and the half glass of wine she'd swallowed was likewise not an explanation, for Alicia to suddenly ask "Are you attracted to me?"  
  
Alicia just caught Kalinda's initial reaction -- one that looked like a wild animal in a trap.  
  
Kalinda then tried to hedge and replied as neutrally as she could manage. "You're beautiful. Who wouldn’t find you attractive?"  
  
It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, and stepping into the air despite knowing it couldn't end well. Alicia didn't accept Kalinda's attempt at rescue. "That's not what I asked you."  
  
"Alicia . . . don't. Please."  
  
"I thought we agreed: everything on the table."  
  
"This isn't like that."  
  
"You still haven't answered my question." Alicia let her lawyer self take over, it was too easy a way to depersonalise the situation.  
  
"Some things are private."  
  
"This affects me too."  
  
"Please Alicia . . ." Kalinda repeated.  
  
"I want to know." Alicia insisted, even though she could feel she was trampling something vulnerable and precious.  
  
Kalinda looked miserably at her glass before setting it on the coffee table. She faced Alicia. "Fine -- of course I find you attractive. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."  
  
Alicia swallowed, she'd convinced herself that Kalinda might have a crush, but her words implied something of a different order altogether. "Were you ever going to tell me?" Alicia felt her agonies of the last few weeks justified putting Kalinda on the spot.  
  
There was a bleak finality to Kalinda's "No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because . . . if I'd told you . . . you'd go back over everything and wonder if that was why."  
  
Alicia flinched, she couldn't argue against that. She'd done exactly so after finding out about Kalinda and Peter: reexamined in minute detail everything Kalinda had ever done for her and attributed it to guilt. It had taken her a year to move on from that and believe otherwise. If Kalinda had declared her feelings even a few weeks prior to Owen's speculation and the resulting change in her mindset, Alicia knew she would have done exactly the same thing, but this time chalked it up to Kalinda's attraction.  
  
Alicia shifted her seat. She felt how it demeaned both Kalinda and the bond they shared to even suggest it had ever been about getting her into bed. But she still pressed on, switching to a new angle of attack, unsure if it was the sense of Kalinda keeping yet another secret from her that made her believe her aggression was justified. "So, what? Because I’m straight you think there was no point?"  
  
Alicia realised with a cold start that although the hurt that flashed across Kalinda’s face was shamefully familiar, she had rarely made the other woman angry. As with anything, its  appearance was brief before Kalinda smoothed it into something more neutral.  
  
"I'm the last person on earth who'd pigeonhole someone’s sexuality."  
  
At Alicia's raised eyebrows, Kalinda continued, getting to her feet and pacing. "It’s me, I’m the problem. I fuck things up." Kalinda reached the window and looked down at the street below. "I don’t want to screw this up again, I need you in my life." She held Alicia’s gaze. "You matter."  
  
"Why would it screw us up?" Alicia said, tentatively offering a hypothetical future where they were possible before realising that Kalinda was too distressed to notice her attempt.  
  
"Alicia, look at me! I can't do relationships." Kalinda sounded more emotional than Alicia could ever recall her being. "I had a husband who tried to kill me, for fuck's sake!"  
  
"So what, your plan was just to spend the rest of your life never taking a chance on anyone again?" Alicia knew she'd effectively called Kalinda a coward. And was on thin ice if she cared to look at her own life and choices.  
  
"Alicia, people . . . either it doesn't last and they end up hating me. Or the one time it didn't . . ." Alicia didn't need to be told that Kalinda was speaking of Nick. "I lost myself. I wasn't me anymore." Kalinda shook her head before turning back to the window.  
  
"Don't you think it's something I had a right to know about?"  
  
"That's not fair." Kalinda's voice was becoming thick with unshed tears. "I don't have a right to know who you think about when you fall asleep, when you wake up . . ."  
  
Alicia opened her mouth but couldn't say anything -- Kalinda's words were essentially a declaration -- one that had been forced out of her.  
  
Kalinda ended the conversation for her. "I think you should leave now." She kept her distance by the windows, but Alicia could see tears beginning to fall.  
  
Alicia left her wine, clumsily picked up her coat, and left. By the time she was out in the night air, walking the blocks back to her car, her steps were more like stumbling. And her composure wasn't the only thing that felt broken.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is owed an apology...other things happen as a result

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the mood for some Kalicia feels now it's series finale time? Here ya go!
> 
> Thanks go to my lovely squad of beta readers: [hotladykisses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hotladykisses/pseuds/hotladykisses) and [Scarlet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet/pseuds/Scarlet) who have stuck with me despite the ridiculous delays on my end due to offline chaos.

Cary sipped his coffee as he browsed the emails that had stacked up over the weekend before he headed off for the ritual of the morning staff meeting. Alicia slid in the door with just a nod, looking tired and closed-off.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just slept badly.”

Which could mean anything . . . Cary looked around for Kalinda wondering if she had any information to offer on the subject. But she was not at her usual post at the head of the communal table in the bullpen outside their office.

He didn’t see Kalinda until the staff meeting. She entered the conference room just as it began, remained standing to give her answers and take notes about the week’s caseload, then disappeared again as soon as Diane called an end.

Cary didn’t see her for the rest of the morning. Usually Kalinda made rounds if she was in the office: dropping off photographs, documents, and touching base. Today she confined herself to email. Alicia remained quietly involved in her computer screen throughout.

After lunch, he took a very circuitous route to Diane’s office and failed to spot Kalinda. On the way back, he went even further out of his way into the depths of family law territory and found her at their bullpen. A battlement of file boxes built around her as if to imply this was where she normally sat.

Whatever had happened between Alicia and Kalinda had not blown over by Tuesday: Alicia was still terse and only able to exchange basic pleasantries. It was a relief when she gathered her files and left for court. At lunchtime, Cary headed off on his own mission.

Kalinda was still in occupation of the family law table, face so carefully neutral Cary could see the effort. She had to acknowledge him when he stood next to her. “Need something?”

“I was wondering if you did?”

“I’m fine, Cary.” Kalinda’s eyes returned to her laptop.

“Indulge me then. Come get some lunch. I won’t ask you anything, I promise.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Please?”

Cary not leaving, combined with her silence, was attracting attention. She gave in and stood.

Cary bought a sandwich for himself and a salad and a smoothie for her from the lunch counter he knew she went to sometimes, and found an empty park bench to sit. Fresh air and sunshine surely couldn’t hurt the situation.

Kalinda must have chewed her forkful of lettuce about fifty times before swallowing and still looked like it was choking her. “Sorry, I can’t eat this.” She handed it back to him. He could see her lipstick on the fork. She did manage to drink some of her smoothie at least.

“Don’t worry about it.”

They sat in silence for some minutes before Cary put his arm over the back of the bench.

She looked at him warily.

“Consider this an implied hug.”

Kalinda smiled sadly and briefly before turning away again. She shut her eyes and tried to just feel the sun on her face. Cary looked at her more closely then, at the tension and exhaustion. He left her to her thoughts for fifteen minutes.

“We should probably head back.”

She nodded and rose from the bench. He could see how badly affected she was: compared to her usual vibrant physicality, she looked wan and brittle. Living in this state of dependence on Alicia’s esteem seemed less and less healthy to his eyes.

She pointedly thanked him as they left the elevator, determined not to let him go so far as walking her back to her desk.

It was ridiculous, Cary thought as he headed for his office, for both women to be so caught up in the vicissitudes of their intense, undefinable relationship. It made him angry at Alicia. He had enough experience of Kalinda’s devotion to Alicia, to know it was absolute and so opposite to how she conducted every other aspect of her life that it had to be involuntary. But it seemed to him that Alicia had a choice about whether to let Kalinda in or not and he wished she would make it decisively either way and be done with it.

So when Alicia returned from court late in the afternoon, he decided that unwelcome interference was deserved in this case.

After exchanging the required comments about the progress of their respective cases, Cary didn’t stop talking. “Look, Alicia, I don’t know what happened between you and Kalinda.”

Her face clouded up instantly. “You really don’t.”

“I’m not asking . . . but she’s miserable. I’m worried about her. We both know how difficult it’s been for her recently. I’m just worried.” Cary repeated.

Alicia ran a hand through her hair and tilted back in her chair.

“Can’t you just forgive her and get past whatever it is?”

Alicia kept looking at the ceiling. It was unfair, she thought, that he’d assume that Kalinda was the one to blame.

She managed to meet his eyes. “She’s not the one who needs to apologise.”

Cary’s surprise was evident, he honestly hadn’t considered that.

“I’ll talk to her.” Alicia promised.

* * *

 

It took time to locate Kalinda. Alicia knew she was deliberately procrastinating, half-hoping that she would complete her circuit of the floor and find only empty workstations.

She was nearly out of desks to inspect, when David Lee brushed past her with a sneer, "I finally get some investigator time . . . and here you are to whisk her away like you always do.”

Alicia ignored him and let him head for the elevators. There was just Kalinda left at the head of a table, determinedly immersed in her work.  
  
Kalinda ignored her until Alicia stopped a pace from her chair. Her eyes were expressionless as she quickly looked up, then down again. She opened her orange notebook and clicked her pen. "Which case?"  
  
"No case." Alicia wondered if Kalinda had always looked so small in the office chairs and decided to take the adjacent chair rather than remain towering over her. "I'm here about me." She came close (so close) to saying "us" before she lost her nerve.  
  
Kalinda continued to affect indifference.  
  
"I want to apologise." Alicia felt relief, confirming the rightness of her actions. "I'm sorry."  
  
Kalinda was at least looking at her now, but with a misery that was several years in the making, not just two nights.  
  
"You didn't deserve what I did." Alicia said, wondering if Kalinda planned to just not speak.  
  
"Alicia . . ." Kalinda's voice faltered -- the way it never did -- except for those times around her. Eventually she resumed, but was still unsteady. "I'm not sure we can go back from this."  
  
Alicia steeled herself, then let go and just allowed herself to act. She reached under the table where Kalinda's hands had fallen into her lap; she fumbled, but took one of them. "I don't want to go back." She squeezed, aware of Kalinda's ring in the palm of her hand.  
  
Kalinda didn't reply, her disbelieving face speaking for her.  
  
"I . . . there's something." Alicia hesitated. How did one confess to fantasising about someone but having no idea if you were prepared to follow through on it?  
  
Kalinda looked -- really looked. She had been about to tell Alicia that she was good at knowing when someone was attracted to her, and she knew Alicia wasn't -- not physically, not consciously anyway. But had she . . . was there a chance she had misinterpreted things lately?  
  
She had been attributing Alicia's bouts of tension to ambivalence about the reestablishment of their friendship, with a side-helping of concern about the possibility that Kalinda harboured more than just friendly feelings for her. Alicia calling her out two nights ago had seemed to confirm her suspicions.  
  
Kalinda needed to stop being pitched back and forth on thoughts that couldn't possibly be true, and threw down an anchor. "What are you saying?"  
  
"I'm not sure." Alicia confessed. "But I think I'm . . . I feel something for you."  
  
For Kalinda, it was nearly the most frightening thing Alicia could say. It offered a possibility so tempting, it had to be a Fata Morgana. She knew she ought to be saying something, but wasn’t able to.  
  
Instead they both sat and felt the warmth of the other’s hand. Kalinda’s breathing gradually stopped roaring in her ears. Alicia slid her thumb into Kalinda’s palm. Kalinda finally chose to squeeze back.  
  
“What do we do?” Kalinda had no landmarks to navigate by, no matter how often she had longed to travel towards this exact path.  
  
"I'm not sure." Alicia chided herself for her inability to think and speak clearly. "I need some time. All this is . . . new." She paused to check Kalinda's response and was encouraged to continue. "Could we talk about this . . . about things?"  
  
"Yes. Sure." Kalinda nodded, still not certain where Alicia planned to steer them, but glad at least that she wasn't being left behind while Alicia fled the scene of their relationship.  
  
"Would Saturday night be possible?" Alicia had the kids for Friday night due to Peter's commitments. And Saturday would give her several days to sift through her feelings and try to put them in a better order. There was a brief prickle of guilt: maybe she would even manage to stuff them back in a nice controlled box, then confess to being yet another of those straight women with a passing fancy. They could laugh that into the safe zone over a bottle of wine -- B.Y.O. packing tape and mothballs.  
  
Kalinda nodded. For a moment Alicia thought she was going to remain swan-mute, until she quietly uttered, "Yeah."  
  
There had been another time, another table, when Kalinda had agreed to their new terms. Alicia suppressed a shiver -- it was hard to believe everything that had happened over the year since then.  
  
Alicia gave one last squeeze to Kalinda's hand before letting hers fall away. "I'm going home now. You should too."  
  
Kalinda pocketed pen, notebook, and phone obediently, then folded her laptop. "I'll walk you out." Kalinda had such moments: ones where it seemed like a bad idea for Alicia to leave an empty office floor and walk through a parking basement alone.  
  
They walked together toward reception. Leaving the familiar offices along a different route added to the feeling of a new and momentous direction for them.  
  
Kalinda pressed the down button. The elevator seemed to take a long time to travel from wherever it had previously stopped. Beside her, Alicia returned to her guilty thoughts and began to pick at a feeling of cowardice. The cheerful ding as the doors opened propelled them both forward.  
  
Kalinda found herself watching spellbound as the numbers counted down from twenty-eight -- a countdown to a new future perhaps. She was still unable to believe it, and Alicia's hesitancy warned her that she shouldn't lay in a new store of hope -- although of course avoiding that was (and had always had been) impossible.  
  
Beside her, Alicia looked at her feet and fought the urge to fidget. Truths that were inside her, but that she had managed to quash during their conversation minutes earlier, rebelled and attempted an escape.  
  
She tossed her head to flip her hair back over her shoulder, and she threw off her caution along with it. She found herself turning toward Kalinda, one hand finding the other woman's shoulder. Kalinda looked at her, eyes huge. Alicia was nervous, but only hesitated for one last instant.  
  
She bent down and touched her lips to Kalinda's.  
  
Alicia felt clumsy -- she wasn't used to kissing someone shorter, wasn't even sure what she desired from the kiss, just that she wanted Kalinda to know that the nascent _something_ growing inside her was real. And that she didn't want to be one of those people who made false promises, fanned embers into flames of desire, and then refused to act on it. (Owen’s many heartbreaks had flitted in and out of her mind.)  
  
As the softness that was Kalinda's mouth responded, Alicia felt another piece of the jigsaw click into place. She _did_ want Kalinda. And some part of her realised the potential she knew was there: Alicia was no dalliance to Kalinda, she . . . _they_ . . . would be special -- the exception.  
  
The bright chime of the elevator shocked them apart, Alicia jumping back, almost certain that the doors would open to some weary businessman who had forgotten his briefcase. Instead, there was just the emptiness of the carpark. It pulled Alicia up, sudden awareness that she needed to be mindful of getting caught thumping through her arteries.  
  
Kalinda, as she so often did, interpreted her precisely. "Don't worry. There are no cameras in the elevator."  
  
"What about the basement?"  
  
"There didn't used to be." Kalinda didn't mention the incident that had led building management to add them.  
  
Alicia nodded. Then she realised they were still standing in the elevator, and that Kalinda was next to her, eyes burning.  
  
Kalinda's hand swept out to hit the close button. "Alicia . . ."  
  
Kalinda led this time, one set of fingers gentle on Alicia’s jaw, while the other slid into the hair at the nape of her neck.  
  
Alicia’s eyes fluttered shut and she gave herself over to Kalinda. Everything was soft (so incredibly soft,) slow, gentle -- just Kalinda’s lips against hers and the merest brushes of her tongue. Alicia felt herself sway, and quickly put her hands on Kalinda’s small shoulders for balance, the leather under her fingers grounding her. She gave her first real response, her tongue touching Kalinda’s bottom lip in return.  
  
Kalinda took them further, gently steering Alicia until the reassuring solidity of the wall was at her back. Her fingers tangled pleasantly in Alicia’s hair, pulling on it gently in a way that made sensations erupt along Alicia’s spine.  
  
Alicia briefly remembered another kiss, another time, in an elevator. This was different to Will -- the taste of Kalinda in her mouth was feminine and sweet, and the urgent lust of that night was absent. She didn't hook her arms around Kalinda's neck, and Kalinda didn't push her against the wall or grasp at her body. She was aroused, she wanted more, but this wasn't a kiss that demanded consummation -- rather, it was the promise of a future. Alicia didn't believe in such things, but under the spell of Kalinda's kiss -- each brush of Kalinda's mouth against hers felt like the caress of Kalinda's soul.  
  
When they finally parted, Alicia experienced deja-vu for the second time that evening. She'd seen that face before. Kalinda's eyes shone with moisture, and her expression testified that she'd give Alicia anything . . . anything she asked . . . because she loved her.  
  
They managed to go their separate ways to their respective cars. Alicia looked up as the lights of Kalinda's SUV threw their beam across the darkened basement. What on earth had she told herself she saw in Kalinda's face that night in the office a year ago?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really should talk . . .  
> Neither of them are good at the talking bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely (and persistent!) beta readers: [hotladykisses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hotladykisses/pseuds/hotladykisses) and [Scarlet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet/pseuds/Scarlet) who are still on this slower-than-intended journey. I hope some of you poor readers still are too.

Alicia arrived on Wednesday morning to find Kalinda properly reinstalled in the bullpen between Eli’s office and the one she shared with Cary. Cary was already at his desk and swivelled around to greet her. His eyes darted over to Kalinda and he gave Alicia a complacent smile. He was obviously pleased at the reconciliation he had wrought, and Alicia had no desire to enlighten him as to the specifics of what had taken place the previous night.

She looked over at Kalinda as she let her computer boot up. The investigator felt the gaze and caught her eye through the glass. Just a quick warm flush of a smile, a little nod, and Kalinda’s head ducked back down to her screen.

Both women couldn’t help but be relieved that Alicia had court the next three days, and that one of Will’s cases erupted in a way that required Kalinda to be deployed on tangents that took her all over Chicago. Because the rest of the week all seemed to lead to Saturday, and both women were aware that being in each other’s presence led rapidly to an intensity that was potentially obvious to anyone around them.

Come Friday night, Alicia found herself tottering on the brink of annoyance that Peter didn’t have the kids on “his” night; and as a result she had to wait until Saturday for time to herself. Zach and Grace seemed to pick up on her moodiness, and ceased the whining squabble they had been pursuing. The three Florricks managed to turn the evening around. It became one of the irregular occasions when the kids joined in preparing dinner as a family. It ended companionably on the couch watching a movie of Zach’s choosing (Grace having been the selector on the previous such occasion.)

After the determined concentration of the workweek, Saturday dawned and it actually seemed like Grace and Zach packed up bags of homework and mysterious electronic devices too quickly. Once they had departed for Highland Park, the rest of the day stretched long and empty. Alicia finished up chores, then opened her laptop to consider what piece of work might provide the best diversion before Kalinda was due to arrive in the evening.

She briefly considered going into the office to log some hours, before it occurred to her that Kalinda might do the same thing. She looked at her phone and contemplated sending a text that might get Kalinda to reveal her location, before deciding such a move was beneath her. Alicia stuck to her apartment WIFI instead.

Kalinda, being better acquainted with technology, was able to determine that Alicia hadn’t logged on to Lockhart Gardner’s network. Hence she was able to chew up her day in the office, systematically ticking off all the desk-based tasks she had avoided during the week so as to minimise her time in Alicia’s presence. She finished up as the day’s light was fading, and headed home.

A shower and change of clothes used to be standard preparations for a Saturday night out to try her luck. Tonight she did the same, but eschewed the shorter skirts and lower-cut tops that were her usual wardrobe picks. Instead she opted for a toned-down version of her look, given that talking was tonight’s agenda.

Alicia set two beers on the living room tray -- nostalgia for that time back when Kalinda had worked the day in and out of her apartment informed her choice of beverage. She debated the rudeness of starting before her guest arrived, and opted for soothing her nerves. The bottle she drank between the time she optimistically hoped Kalinda might arrive, and the agreed upon time that she in fact did, was useful.

In the end, Kalinda’s bottle stayed unopened. Talking during their first real time alone for days was not possible -- not when they finally had the chance to touch each other . . .

It started sedately enough: Alicia’s hands again being the ones that reached hesitantly for Kalinda. But tonight there was privacy and no time limit. Alicia’s curiosity to know what Kalinda’s kisses were capable of kindling within her was matched by Kalinda’s inability to curb her desire now that the opportunity to lavish it upon Alicia existed.

By the time Kalinda’s lips finally decided that Alicia’s mouth was sufficiently explored (for now anyway) and strayed to her jaw, her throat, her collarbones . . . Alicia was convinced that Kalinda was more than equal to overcoming any doubts she may have had about whether she could be aroused by a woman.

The moan that left Alicia’s mouth -- prompted by the press of Kalinda’s body, the caress of her lips on her earlobe -- was echoed by Kalinda whispering her name: “Alicia . . .” against her cheekbone. “Alicia . . .” into the tendons of her throat. “Alicia . . .” muffled by the junction of neck and shoulder.

Kalinda straightened up and drank in the sight of Alicia, eyelids half closed, lips flushed from kissing rather than lipstick. Then the desire she could see building in the older woman burst forth.

Alicia’s hands reached again, enjoying the feel of the strong lines of Kalinda’s jaw in her palms, and kissed her -- hard. The result was intoxicating: Kalinda melting in response to Alicia wanting her.

Kalinda’s head tilted back and her body arched as she surrendered helplessly to Alicia taking control. The rush of power spurred Alicia further, first twisting them until Kalinda was pushed into the backrest of the couch, and then more as they slid down until Alicia was resting her weight on the smaller woman beneath her. The delicate softness of their earlier kisses had vanished -- now they were frank and open-mouthed, both women gasping for air around the edges.

Kalinda was the first to break away to pant, turning her head to the side. And it was tempting, so incredibly tempting . . . Kalinda looked so close to the way she had in Alicia’s dream . . . it would be so easy to just keep going and let the headiness of what they were both experiencing carry them into bed.

Kalinda was the one to stop things. Recovering her breath, she pushed at Alicia’s shoulders just slightly to indicate that she should slide off her.

Alicia complied, and moved a fraction away from Kalinda on the sofa. It seemed like the conversation phase of the evening had arrived.

“We should stop.” Kalinda asserted.

Alicia murmured her agreement, even as her body protested the interruption. Watching the way Kalinda drew a trembling hand across her mouth did nothing to quiet the internal voice that urged her to continue. Nor did the glimpse she caught, as she averted her gaze, of Kalinda's nipples clearly visible through the cups of her bra, and silk of her blouse.

Kalinda remained silent, and Alicia recalled that she had been the one to suggest meeting to talk. Various notions of how this might work that she had pondered during the week . . . arrangements, discretion, exclusivity . . . all the ideas she’d had about how they should pursue this sensibly and figure out what they had together seemed to have evaporated. She tried to muster her thoughts -- she didn’t want to jump into the deep end impulsively again the way she had with Will. Knowing what she did about Kalinda’s feelings for her, and well -- everything about their situation -- told her that this was not an affair that could fizzle out and leave them on reasonable terms.

Instead, she found herself stating rather obviously, “I want you. I want this,” and once again watching the arousal show on Kalinda’s face.

"I want you more than I've . . ." Kalinda's hand twitched, and she had to clench her fist to prevent herself from reaching for Alicia.

The situation was reason enough, but seeing Kalinda so undone was what really made Alicia incapable of launching the rational discussion she had planned.

It took a few more beats of silence before Kalinda realised that while she had been relying on Alicia to be the sensible one, she was going to have to press on herself. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

Understatement, but Alicia nodded.

“Shall we . . .?” Kalinda wasn’t definite why more time seemed like a good idea, just a vague notion that she wanted a Alicia to make a decision, not to act on an impulse driven by the wave of arousal sweeping them both along. “Next weekend, if you still want to . . . I mean, if you can . . .” She had a vague idea that Peter had the kids most weekends, but was unsure of the specifics.

“Yeah. Um, Friday night.” Once stated, it seemed a long way off.

Kalinda, as if apprehending some of Alicia’s earlier thoughts, continued “Here. Hotels are a bad idea.”

Alicia nodded again. Kalinda could just be her friend, a colleague at work dropping by for a quiet evening at home, nothing untoward -- one of the advantages of Kalinda’s gender that had occurred to her. She might have gotten away with hotel room _lunches_ for months with Will, but her profile was much higher now.

It seemed like this was an evening where Kalinda was required to do all the talking. “I’m going home now.” She gathered the will to lift herself up from the sofa and away from temptation.

Alicia’s hand on her wrist stayed her.

“Just . . .”

“Yeah.” Kalinda closed her eyes as Alicia met her lips once more.

They allowed themselves to fall back under each other’s spell for a few precious moments, until restraint reasserted itself and parted them by mutual agreement.

Kalinda stood up, her hand telling Alicia to stay sitting. She turned back at the doorway to the hall; Alicia forced herself to not move despite the call of Kalinda's liquid brown eyes. And then she was gone. The door’s lock clicked solidly behind her and silence filled the apartment.

><><><><><><

Alicia lay awake in her bed sifting her thoughts. In effect Kalinda had given her a cooling off period, as though they were a real estate transaction. She supposed it was appropriate -- it qualified as a major life decision. But she wondered if there was more to it as well. Alicia knew that for Kalinda to embark on a relationship rather than a fling was just as a big deal. And they had never talked about how Kalinda was after Nick’s attack. Maybe Kalinda giving them space was as much about her as it was consideration for her partner.

Alicia rolled to the opposite side and found a new cool patch for her cheek. She imagined Kalinda’s face resting on the pillow beside hers. It kicked off an entirely new train of thoughts -- ones equally resistant to sleep.

><><><><><><

In another part of Chicago, amidst the austerity of her white apartment and white sheets, Kalinda picked through her own thoughts with less confusion. She knew that their feelings were desperately unequal -- Alicia didn’t love her, might never love her the way she did. And yet the whole thing had an air of inevitability. Had Will hoped that Alicia would fall for him, when he embarked on their affair? Wasn’t she doing exactly that now? And how had she ended up a participant in something she’d normally hold in such contempt?

Kalinda knew the answer to that: because there was a chance, however small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last year has not been good for the P bit of WIP but this story isn't abandoned. I promise!
> 
> 2016 had a lot of offline challenges. I hope 2017 is more conducive to finishing this. But hey! Makeouts!


End file.
